


Ten Reasons Not to Date Draco Malfoy

by DracoNeedsPinkHair



Series: Pinkhaired Draco [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Outing, Romance, Slow Burn, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-01-03 20:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 59,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21185669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoNeedsPinkHair/pseuds/DracoNeedsPinkHair
Summary: Draco Malfoy is young, hot, single and gay - still Witch Weekly thinks he is undatable.Harry Potter is still searching for his true sexuality. When asking Malfoy for help he discovers a side of the other man he would have never expected.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, every story needs a start. Let's see, what Witch Weekly thinks about Draco

# Ten Resons Not to Date Draco Malfoy

_The hearts of dozens of young witches (and a few in their best age, like myself) broke, when the extremely handsome bachelor Draco Malfoy announced he was gay last year. Still, the silver blond aristocrat makes our knees weak whenever he is spotted at any event due to his absolutely delicious looks (for the latest updates on steaming hot male fashion remember to turn to page 24). However, the most wanted gay bachelor of the whole wizarding world seems to be rather picky when it comes to choosing a suitable partner. Even though he has been seen in the company of several adorable young wizards (the last time we checked, no other than the Oliver Wood accompanied him at the Ministry's Yule Ball), none of them seemed to be able to keep up his interest long enough for a second date. For all you cute boys out there, we therefore have come up with a very carefully researched list of reasons why it better for you not to date Draco Malfoy. _

__

_**1\. He is anything but approachable  
** Draco Malfoy is a rare sight in public to be fair, so it will be hard to spot him at all. But even if you managed to meet him, it is more than likely he will refuse to talk to you._

** **** **

_**2\. He does not like company  
** On the rare occasions that we met the handsome bachelor he openly explained to our reporter that he preferred solitude over small talk at any time_

_**3\. He is very secretive about his private life  
** Little is known about how the beau prefers to spend his free time. So far he has scarcely been spotted outside his work space as highly appreciated consultant in the healing potions sector._

_**4\. He is obsessed with his looks  
** Draco Malfoy is one fine man. And unfortunately, he knows that very well. You will never find him not wearing a perfectly tailored three-piece, his hair groomed for the gods. And we are sure he expects nothing else from his partner._

_**5\. He is very conservative  
** Even though being open about his sexual preferences, the Malfoy heir is known to be rather conservative. So wild party nights and hot make out sessions are hard to imagine._

_**6\. He is a real traditionalist  
** We all have come to enjoy some of those crazy Muggle inventions. Draco however refuses to interact with any kind of technology. It is even said that he until today does not own a telly._

_**7\. He has a dark side  
** How could anyone forget the dark place this beauty has blossomed from? Despite all his charms and success today, there is still this aura of sadness lingering above the young gentleman's head that from time to time gets insufferable._

_**8\. He cannot stand cowards  
** ...but Draco Malfoy is not a coward. And he cannot stand people being imitated by society. Therefore, whenever he is asked about his attraction towards our other bachelors previously featured in this column, he declared that he would never again go out with anyone still in the closet._

_**9\. He is not the guy for great gestures  
** Do not expect any grand gestures from this guy, as much as he looks like a fairy tale prince. Being this handsome, the astonishing wizard never had to fight for attention and therefore will not feel the need to show his affection publicly._

_**10\. He does not date  
** And last but not least, the most important reason: Draco Malfoy does not date, as he declared himself. He just recently told Witch Weekly that he indeed has "no intention to enter any kind of serious relationship in the next few years"._

_So all you cute gay wizards out there, be strong, Draco Malfoy is no option for you either.  
Check out our bachelor of the week in our next issue when we are going to take a closer look into what buttons to push to get to know...___

_ _

_ _Harry sighs heavily, putting away the rubbish article Daphne had carelessly tossed into his face and tries his best to offer her a crooked smile. 'Well researched' seems to be a rather lose term, at least when the Weekly Witch uses it, he thinks grimly. At least half of the reasons to not date Draco could not be further away from the truth._ _

_ _Harry stretches lazily, enjoying the soft late morning sun that shines through the massive window front of the living room. Coming from the kitchen he can smell a faint idea of coffee. It has been a long night and he is not in the mood to discuss Draco's date-ability. Not as long as his own lips are still swollen from stolen kisses of laughing girls and adorable blokes. His head still heavy from the lack of sleep and alcohol he almost dozes of again into the warm whiteness of a comfortable sleepy Sunday morning._ _

_ _The weight of another body forces him to flutter his eyes open once again, but he barely moves his long legs to just make enough room for the other man. Only dressed in boxers and a loose white shirt without sleeves the other guy clearly has not really woken up already either. His tattoo-covered arms cross behind a messy bunch of pink hair and his feet fold elegantly on the coffee table while the other man grabs the neglected newspaper. The sun reflects in the longish strands of hair that have fallen out of the loose bun. His face is covered with a few dozen light freckles, especially around the pointy nose. The dark eyebrows contrast nicely with the light hair. Earrings hang from his left ear, four rings and a tiny tunnel, not even half an inch in diameter. Even though he clearly lacks sleep his face is still quite attractive, the tiny smirk softening his sharp features._ _

_ _"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Ten reasons not to date me? Oh that must be a new one!", Draco snarls, biting into one side of his pierced lips while looking at Harry with an amused grin. And all over sudden the previous Golden Boy of Gryffindor is not so sure anymore if he could come up with even one single reason why one should not date Draco Malfoy._ _

_ _'Oh crap, please tell me it is just my drunk horny self that made me think that,' he prays to whomever might hear him. But secretly his consciousness whispers in his ears that it is not the first time his heart has skipped a beat when those grey eyes focused on him._ _

_ _But let's not jump ahead in our story. I think we have to rewind a few weeks back to a point when Harry Potter did not even dare to think about meeting dear Draco privately or could have ever considered crushing on his couch regularly. Our story in fact starts at a point when our beloved Gryffindor did not even have a clue about the actual Draco, who quite enjoys everything muggle from partying to tattoos and especially gay bars..._ _  



	2. Chapter 1: He is anything but approachable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow the boys need to get to know each other. I heard that talking might help!

# Chapter 1: He is anything but approachable

Harry took another sip of his ice-cold coffee and blankly stared in front of him. He had already been sitting in the small coffee shop for at least an hour. While the people around him were either engaged in conversations or just simply playing with their phones, he just sat there quietly and stared at the table on the other side of the tiny terrace.

It had been exactly 17 days since the news of his and Ginny's break up went public. 17 days of him being hunted by reporters, stalked by hundreds of owls and not being able to set one foot out of his home without having to answer the same questions over and over again.

Why did you split up?

Weren't you supposed to get married this year?

Is it true she left you for another man?

How do you deal with the heartbreak?

He had asked himself those questions constantly after they had actually broken up three months ago. It was Ginny's idea to keep it a secret until Ball season would start again. She told him like this the press would have other stories to cover and therefore less capacity to focus on him. She was right about that. After one week, his face disappeared from the covers, after two weeks, the double features became rare and today was the first day he hadn't spotted his own face on any newspaper except the Witch Weekly feature of him being the most wanted bachelor of the Wizarding World.

Ginny somehow always knew how to handle publicity. She was so much better at it than him. She knew when to appear at an event, what to say, when to pose, touch, kiss, leave. It was her who carefully managed the bits and pieces of information they gave to the press. She announced them dating so it was her duty to inform the press about their break up.

She had always been the voice of the relationship. Because she understood how to handle situations. How to handle Harry. She just knew him better than he did himself. Maybe that was the reason she knew just when to end things with him.

Don't get me wrong. During their time together Harry never felt unhappy. Being with Ginny was easy. Spending time with her, kissing her, exploring their bodies together. It just felt logical. Reasonable.

He never felt uncomfortable with her. But he also never felt uncomfortable without her. When she was gone, he sure was wondering what she was up to but it was never her he missed, it was solemnly the company.

He had always felt like a member of the Weasley family. This was where he belonged and therefore dating Ginny was - well it was the obvious thing to do. And it seemed to work out pretty well until one day Ron made this terrible joke about Harry dating even him if there had been no female Weasley he could court.

Harry still remembered the second the realization hit Ginny. He was dating her because she had always been the most reasonable choice. Later that night when they were alone in bed together, she would ask him whether he loved her. He told her, that he loved her from the bottom of her heart. And it was the truth. She still started crying.

The next morning she broke up with him, just before breakfast. It was as simple as starting their relationship. She talked, he listened. Her reasons were logical. It was too easy. They never argued. They just were together and it was alright. But she did not feel desired.

He had that thought in the back of his mind for quite long. Sure, Ginny was beautiful and when they had sex, he enjoyed it. But he never craved it. He always thought of himself of not being the sensual type. They stopped having sex three years into their partnership. He scarcely missed being intimate with her.

"I really wish you will someday find someone you really can desire. Someone whose touch makes your knees weak. Someone you want to be with every second."

When she told him that, he could hardly imagine ever feeling that way for anyone. There had never been a girl he looked at in that way. Sure, he could enjoy a woman's beauty but that was about it. What she told him next was what really shook him to the ground.

"Maybe it is not a woman you are looking for..."

And that was is. As simple as that. At the age of 25 Harry Potter was left by his fiancée and girlfriend of seven years because she thought he was gay. Shocking isn't it? How would the press have reacted to this part of the story, he often wondered. And more so, what would the Weekly Witch write about him knowing that not for one second he tried to argue with Ginny. Actually, he wasn't sure if she was wrong at all.

This brings us back to the day 17 days after the breakup. Harry was still sitting in said coffee shop, staring at the back of a well-known, blond haired man and wondering if he was actually checking out the other man.

But this story would not go anywhere if it only was about Harry staring at someone's back, lost in his own thoughts. The blond man turned his head for the approximately fifth time this day to notice him still staring. Dark eyebrows twitched and a smug smile conquered his lips. With what could only be described as pure elegance the other wizard got up from his chair and made his way towards Harry.

"Well Potter," he said while nonchalantly pulling out the chair opposite of Harry, "I know it has been quite some time since you last had the chance to lust after me across the tables but what special occasion did I miss today that forces you back into old habits?" While still talking he let himself glide into the chair, not breaking eye contact with the former Gryffindor for just a split second.

Harry Potter is brilliant at a lot of things. The most important examples for that would be defeating evil Dark Lords and constantly getting into a lot of trouble. Lesser known talents include cooking, being lazy on Sundays and having the ability to instantly charm any toddler. Small talk is not mentioned on this list for a good reason.

"Malfoy, am I gay?"

Staring at him blankly without blinking even once, Draco Malfoy, the undeniable eloquent aristocrat who never seems to be short of a sharp but thrillingly entertaining response, finally looked shaken. He seemed very unsure as what to make out of this question, but honestly, who wouldn't?

~

Harry was well aware that this might had come out of nowhere. However, this had been the chance he so desperately had been looking for since the breakup. He didn't know many openly gay people - actually only Charlie Weasley and he was obliviously not a suitable choice to discuss such a delicate matter. Not after the breakup. The Weasleys were his family but still...as long as he was not sure whether Ginny's suspicion contained the smallest notch of truth, he didn't want them to know.

Not Charlie, not Molly, not even Ron or Hermione. He was too scared of them asking uncomfortable questions, forcing him to explore his - maybe - true sexuality.

Three months and 17 days and still Draco Malfoy out of all people seemed to be his only chance. Not only because Harry could be absolutely sure, the blonde aristocrat would never address the matter in a conversation with the Weasley family (as if Malfoy would even talk to them!) but also because he never made a deal out of his sexual preferences.

Charlie was out to his family and friends but not publicly. It felt more like a not so secret secret shared by a larger number of people. He had never been seen dating a bloke nor had he brought someone home yet. If he had a partner, nobody in the family knew. Malfoy had approached the matter differently. Harry estimated that the number of people knowing about Charlie being gay must equal the amount of witches and wizards not being aware that the sole heir to the Malfoy family was riding his broom the other way around.

When Draco Malfoy came out he did it with style. Of course, a simple announcement or an interview would not do. He instead reacted to the various rumours in a way only he could. It was a feast for the media.

First of all, posters started to appear. They featured a variety of phrases such as: "Draco Malfoy plays for the other team." "The Slytherin prince fancies snakes and not princesses." "Draco Malfoy: from prince to queen." "Instead of skirts Draco Malfoy lifts shirts." Having initially been seen as an attack on the former Death Eater the campaign had not been taken seriously. Then the day came Pansy Parkinson wore **the** button.

It was plain black with green writing on it. The enchanting made sure whomever glimpsed at it was able to read the message: "I was Draco's fake girlfriend while he was kissing boys!" This coming from the one girl always being supportive of Malfoy made people realise that after all the posters might not have been wrong. Why else should Parkinson make sure, her best friend since Hogwarts was outed? Also, denouncing herself as fake girlfriend was nothing, she could probably be proud of.

The final stage of the plan was of course Malfoy's big entry. Dressed in a form fitting three-piece suit he attended his family's traditional Beltane celebrations not only by himself but also making a point nobody could overlook. It was a number of rather subtle changes that left a deep impression.

His hair was still combed back and as longish as it had been for the past months, however, now it was held back by a very elegant ribbon instead of a more masculine piece of jewellery. His pants fit just this tiny bit too well around his buttocks to make absolutely sure everyone could get a perfect glimpse at his behind. His gestures lacked the forced edge, he moved more like a Veela than ever before. All in all he seemed more comfortable in his own skin than ever without having given up his masculinity at all but still more emphasising his delicate feature.

Oh and did I already mention he announced himself as "Draco Malfoy, last of his name, not willing to pretend he was ever going to date a witch, well-educated wizards of old families with the financial means to fulfil his every wishes as well as stunning looks welcome owl him"?

~

Since his coming out, the world did not change for Draco Malfoy. He was still the same, dressed the same, had the same job and friends. He just simply dated man. And that was exactly what Harry wanted for himself. Enough things had chance in his young life. He had lost what he would call a family not only once. He had been special long enough. If Ginny was in fact right and he was gay, he didn't want it to be special. He wanted to be normal. And as strange as this might sound, Draco Malfoy managed to stay normal.

“Well Potter, I do tend to cause this reaction in men. Look at me, who would not want to share their bed with me. So, is this your reason to ask me such a question?”, the blond man responded with a witty tone in his voice. It had taken Malfoy quite a while to regain his cool and laid-back mannerisms. Now he was leaning back in his chair, casually stretching his long legs a bit and looking at poor Harry with one eyebrow slightly raised, twitching in amusement while a smug half smile was playing around his lips.

All of the former courage had left the Gryffindor and he could barely stand to even look into Malfoys direction anymore. Instead he focused on his neglected coffee mug and desperately wished he had never asked this stupid question. Not Malfoy. Not after the blond git had already let shine through, he was very well aware of the constant starring. How stupid could one single person be, Harry wondered. There was absolutely no reason for Malfoy to not simply get up and straight forward tell the press about this weird conversation. Harry could already read the new headlines: “Malfoy heir molested by the Chosen One” “The third wheel in the Potter relationship was in fact a man – Harry’s man!”

After what felt like ages in which he mentally kicked himself for being so insanely stupid, the other man finally reacted once again. Dragging his chair closer to the table and sitting upright Malfoy changed his posture from arrogance into what seemed to be real interest.

“Potter, this isn’t a joke to you, is it?”, he carefully asked. His voice was much quieter than before as if he wanted to make sure this conversation stayed between the two of them. The smirk around his face was gone. It had been replaced by a faint frown. When Harry finally found the courage to look up again his gaze was met by very earnest looking grey eyes. The atmosphere of this conversation had changed completely.

This was his chance to get out of this unbelievable stupid idea! Harry just had to tell Malfoy that of course this was a joke and he just tried to insult the git. Call him a faggot. A Sissi and this was it. But somehow, he did not want to do that either. Under the expectant gaze of the blond man he managed to very slowly nod once and after that quickly shut his eyes.

Again, the man sitting opposite of him changed his position, now leaning on the table with both his elbows. The frown on his forehead had increased and now he definitely seemed to be rather confused than amused or in the mood to make some jokes. This could be the first glimpse Harry could ever have at the Draco Malfoy that stood in for something. The young wizard who refused to be treated differently because of his sexuality. The man who stood up and fought for something. Someone from whom Harry maybe could learn something.

“Well Potter,” he slowly and very quietly said, “if you really want to talk about this subject, we should meet at a less public place.” Out of the inner pocket of his jacket he pulled a business card and a pen that could only be described as decadent. Dark mahogany wood together with what looked like actual marble held a thin fountain-pen nib made out of platinum. The ink of course had a deep green colour. He took his very time to note down an address. Harry immediately noticed that the capital letters were written obnoxiously large and contained more than one unnecessary extra swirl.

While sliding over the business card which now contained an address, Malfoy got up from his seat and attempted to leave Harry alone. Our favourite Gryffindor was almost tempted to think of this meeting as surprisingly pleasant had the blond man not turned around at the last moment to loudly and announced: “Oh, and you pay! However, you shall not confuse this meeting with a date or any similar activity of such kind! What would the people think of my loss of taste! See you, Scarhead!”

With a theatrical bow and a – Harry had to admit that – rather charming half smile on his lips he eventually exited the little coffee shop. And left back a rather confused young man who blankly starred on the card in front of him, wondering if he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Was asking Draco Malfoy for advice really a good idea? The definition of aristocratic git? But something at the back of Harry’s head told him that even though his former school rival made a scene out of his departure, the moment the blond man noticed the seriousness of this matter, his behaviour had indeed changed from playful nagging to something one might even consider as understanding for the other guys situation.

~

Two days later, this voice had become very silent and had been replaced by a rather hysteric train of thought that constantly told Harry to leave as soon as possible before Malfoy arrived and had the chance to embarrass the Golden Boy by unleashing the press onto him like a pack of wild bloodhounds. The blond git would definitely try to humiliate him. He would stage this meeting as some sort of date where he could act as the suffering victim who had been stalked by the mad Potter, a lovesick maniac. Maybe Malfoy would not even show up. Maybe he would just send a callboy. A stripper. Someone who would make Harry feel utterly ashamed while the former Slytherin Prince could get a fair share of laughs from his Potter-stinks-fan-club.

Nervously turning the small business card over and over again, Harry had of course arrived at the address way to early. Instead of 5 p.m. he had been sitting there since four, eagerly waiting for whatever evil surprise Malfoy had planned for him. If he was going to be fast enough to notice the malevolent plan, maybe he could still escape the worst.

Still he was wondering why Malfoy had suggested to meet at a Muggle bar, quite outside of any magical district of London. A rather cosy place, however rather fancy than old-school. The tables were made out of blank wood pieces same as the chairs and the menus which included only fancy sounding drinks or organic gluten free vegan homemade smoothies. Harry, always favouring a good old pint over anything else, had simply gone with a still water (which had already been harder to order than he would have ever imagined. As if he cared where the spring was located, which special kinds of stones had filtered the water or what kind of packaging had been used to preserve the natural quality of the drink!)

On the one side of the card, Malfoy had carefully written down the address of the pub, including a date and time, the other side contained his business information.

_Draco L. Malfoy_

_Freelancing consultant for Dark Curses_

_Including the handling of Dark Artefacts_

_And poisoning through Ancient Receipts_

_Contact: Owling Station 314 b, London_

Interestingly enough, Malfoy had very well established himself as one of the most demanded and successful consultants the Ministry of Magic worked with. Furthermore, he had explicitly refused to directly work for them, stating that he wanted to remain his own boss with nobody to push him around. It had been quite a surprise after the war that he did not try to leave all of his past behind and simply pretend to have moved on. Nor did he strictly follow every old tradition. He decided to go his very own way, as he explained himself to the press, by serving the Ministry as freelancing consultant in an area where they had been lacking expertise for ages as no other wizard actually connected to the Dark Arts would have ever considered working for the government. Sometimes Harry wondered if such a job decision would also be an option for him. It was not that he was unhappy at his office and having someone else to decide for you when you had to work, what times you had to take off and what jobs you should take surely had its upsides…

When he looked up from the small card in his hands, he noticed that Malfoy had entered the pub, starring at him from a distance as if he had been waiting for Harry to notice him first before getting any closer. He was wearing a mixture of black robes and a suit, emphasizing his slender frame and very fashionable this season. The long hair was held back by the elegant and simply hairband. The actual robes part of his outfit was carefully draped over his left arm. The grey vest nicely contrasted with the darker trousers and the black shirt. He looked flawless as always. The tiny half smile returned to the blond man’s face when he finally caught Harry’s eyes. Slowly he came closer to the table, his own drink already in one hand, and sat down.

“So, Potter, why me?”, he just asked instead of greeting the other man first. It was a very simply and logical question to ask concerning the situation. Still, Harry was not sure how to answer, how to start. Deep down inside of him the one voice kept screaming that Malfoy only wanted to make fun of him, embarrass him, use his weaknesses against him.

After waiting for what felt like ages, but really might have been 90 seconds Malfoy started talking again.

“You know that it is impossible to have a conversation with me if you refuse to even talk to me!”

Biting his lower lip Harry once again looked down at the table, uncapable of reacting to the other man. A theatrical moan came from the blond man. Harry noticed the sound of parchment taken out of a bag. Pale hands with carefully manicured fingernails put something in front of him which looked a lot like a formal agreement he knew from work.

“Well Potter, as I can clearly not simply trust you with information on such a private matter and neither should you, the best solution will be a confidentiality pact ensuring none of us can share any details about our meetings.”

Did Harry just imagine it or had Malfoy referred to meetings in plural as if this would not be a one-time thing? With a seemingly confused frown he skimmed through the parchment in front of him. It mainly contained the basic paragraphs ensuring both parties that the other one would be bound by magic to not let any piece of information spoken, written or even drawn in their meetings be known to a third party. It also had a section about expanding this disclosure to any kind of owling or texting. And a paragraph about not revealing spells such as Glamours. Interesting, he thought to himself. It was a well-known fact in the wizarding community that Harry from time to time used a Glamour to go out in public without being recognized but normally his disclosures did not mention such a thing.

After reading through the short text two more times, checking every word carefully for a second, secret meaning he signed the parchment. If he had looked up during his studies, he would have noticed Malfoy who could not hold back an amused grin when he noticed Harry’s mistrust.

Stowing the signed document back into his pockets, the blond man once again looked at Harry and started another attempt for a conversation.

“Am I right to believe Potter that I am the only gay person you know?”

Harry was shaking his head quietly but did not answer which led to Malfoy reformulating his question.

“Am I the only gay bloke you could think of who is not related or somehow close to your former fiancée?”

This time Harry nodded and managed to almost look the other man straight into the eyes. Actually, it was more staring at a point between Malfoy’s ears and eyes instead of his actual eyes. He can feel himself blushing, asking himself once again when exactly this had sounded like a good idea and why?

With what can only be described as a very theatrical sob, Malfoy took a sip from his drink. It smelled like herbs and citrus, something Harry would not have expected the other man to drink. Staring blankly at the glass in the other man’s hand, our beloved Gryffindor decided it was time to make his former house pride and finally find the courage to talk.

“You are the only gay wizard I know who is like really out.”

His weary eyes search for the other man’s gaze and when they lock for a second, Harry wonders if Malfoy had always had grey eyes. There was not a hint of blue in them. Just plain grey with a few darker spots. Currently, those eyes were dominated by the dark brows above them, curved in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“So, you thought that the old queen Draco had nothing else to do than teach you how to be a proper poof?”, he asked, the familiar snarl in his voice. But it was accompanied by something else. If you listened carefully, you could notice a soft undertone in the voice, something playful and almost caring. Harry however had never been quite sensitive to undertones and this is why no one at this point should be surprised by him not getting the hint that Malfoy was indeed just joking.

“No, no! I am sorry. I don’t think you are a poof! I did not mean to offend you! I was just…well it seemed logical…ugh…I…see I am sorry!”

The blond man sitting opposite of him burst out in laughter. He put down his drink to instead touch his forehead with three fingers while placing his elbow on the table. Eyes closed he could do nothing else than to keep on laughing. A tiny dimple appeared on his left cheek. It stayed there even after the laughter had settled for a deep smile whose mischievous aftermath even reached the storm grey eyes which starred at Harry from between his fingers.

“Potter, I was joking! There is nothing wrong with being a poof. I am one myself and I am proud of that!”, he explained with a very light hearted voice. The elbow remained on the table; the hand however was being moved away from the face and instead placed on the table between them. He even moved closer towards our Golden Boy and leaned towards him, lowering his voice as if they were sharing a secret between friend or planning on playing tricks on their teachers.

“And maybe you are playing for the same team as me.”

And then Draco Malfoy did something that shook the Saviour of the Wizarding World to the very grounds. He winked. At Harry. Playfully. A one-sided smile was still playing around his lips when he looked at Harry. Like they were on the same side and he was trying to assure his former enemy everything was going to be just fine. Just to make this clear: everyone one else in the whole world, be it magical or not would clearly have considered this behaviour flirting. Everyone but Harry who still was so not used to anyone making a move at him that he was just simply confused.

Leaning back a bit, Malfoy obviously tried to give our dear black-haired wonder boy some time to calm down once again. Taking in a deep breath Harry tried to relax a bit. There was absolutely no reason to be so warry. Malfoy was behaving way better than he had even dared to dream of. Nothing to be scared of, he told himself, we are not the ignorant children we used to be anymore.

“How did you know you were gay, Malfoy?”, he finally managed to ask the man sitting at the other hand of the table. Proudly he noticed that his voice was not shaking anymore. He even managed to look the other man straight into his eyes where his gaze was once again met with something best to be described as playful mischief.

“Well, having another man’s dick in your mouth or up your ass clearly is a good indicator,” Malfoy replied very calmly as this was the most normal thing to say. His face stayed still, only one eyebrow twitching ever so slightly. Again, the heat rose into Harry’s cheeks and he had to look away. How could he say that and keep a straight face as if it was the most common thing to talk about with your former enemy.

“Was you shagging another guy the reason you and the Weaslette broke up?”, Malfoy curiously asked, forcing all the colour to drop from Harry’s face at once. He eagerly shook his head, maybe a bit to forceful and returned to staring at the table in front of him. Noticing the shift in the atmosphere between them, Malfoy leaned in once again and lowered his voice quite a bit.

“Have you ever shagged another bloke?”

Another shake of his head was the only answer Harry was able to produce.

“Kissed?”

Again, shaking head.

“Fancied?”

Still, Harry was signalizing he had never, however, he was not so sure about the last question if he was being honest. In fourth grade he had been obsessed with Cedric Diggory and thinking about it now he wasn’t quite sure anymore if a part of him did not somehow consider the Hufflepuff quite attractive. Also, when Harry thought back to early Quidditch practice, the first thing that came to his mind was indeed Oliver Woods naked back in the showers. He slowed the head shaking down and managed to look at Malfoy once again, expecting the blond git to make fun of him. But he did not, instead he made himself comfortable, took another sip from his drink and leaned back.

“Well, I first suggested I was different than the other boys when I was 13. I remember every bloke in the second-year dorms was fancying Astoria Greengrass at that time when all I could think of was how cute Blaise Zabini looked in his pyjamas…”

What followed after this was a rather cute story of Malfoy trying to kiss Pansy Parkinson and really, really hating it. After that he managed to ‘accidentally’ hold hands with Blaise who after a long winter of sending longing glances across the common room decided it was time to kiss his friend. This time Draco liked it far more. So, they kept kissing until about March when the poor blonde boy caught Zabini holding hands with another girl.

The former Slytherin was just about to start telling the as he called it ‘dramatic story of how Blaise Zabini conquered and broke my tiny precious heart for the first time’ when a glimpse at the clock behind him made him stop talking and frowning for a moment.

“Shit, I got to go, I almost lost track of time. Look, Potter, I am not sure if that was helpful at all…,” he started while asking the waiter for the cheque and without even thinking about it twice paying for both their drinks. Already getting up from the chair, he once again looked at Harry. Who of course was not sure how to react once again? To be fair, he had quite enjoyed the former Slytherin talking about first crushes. Harry had to admit that Malfoy was rather entertaining.

“I think it helped a bit.”

With a sort of bow, waving his hand as if he were an artist waiting for applause, the blond man fully got up and looked Harry death in the eyes.

“So, should we just meet up again here in let’s say a week or so? I mean, you still owe me drinks!”

~

And just like that meeting Malfoy for drinks to mainly listen to him talk about how he found out he was gay, how his mother somehow always had known and from now and then questions directed towards Harry and concerning what he was attracted to became a regular thing our Golden boy actually really was looking forward to during the week, always wondering, what witty comments or funny stories the other guy had to tell the next time they met.

Soon, his discomfort around the blond guy got less and less and he actually managed to go as far as emitting that he was maybe staring at Cedric Diggory’s butt from time to time which only made Malfoy throw one hand into the air, melodramatically commenting “well who on earth hasn’t, I mean this arse was made to be stared at!” It was still mainly the former Slytherin talking when it came to sensitive subjects such as sexual orientation, however, they did not exclusively stick to that topic but also had lively discussions about Quidditch (Where Malfoy tended to make fun of the awful colour combinations of some teams), the current reorganization processes going on at the Ministry (Where Malfoy kept complaining about the pour choices of fabric being made when it came to redecoration) and any current rumours that did or did not directly concern them (“Honestly Potter, how could anyone assume I would even touch that creepy old guy! I am way to rich and good looking to be a gold digger!”). To make it short, they were actually getting along quite well, surely avoiding difficult topics such as their past on different sides of the war but looking at Draco Malfoy now, Harry had a hard time finding any resemblance to the scared and broken boy who suffered under Voldemort and was raised to be a part of this dark cult.

We could stop our little story here and simply leave our two boys in that tiny bar, slowly becoming friends but that somehow would leave some questions open, such as why Draco does have pink hair or why Harry did not mention the ear rings and tunnels so far, let alone the tattoos covering the blond guys body up onto the back of his hands. To get to this part of the story we have to fast forward a bit into the boys regularly meeting until the day Harry gets to meet Astoria and Daphne Greengrass or as Draco prefers to call them ‘The two-headed demon who will once cause my death by liver failure or a heart attack’.  



	3. Chapter two: He does not like company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introduction: Astoria Greengrass, bane of Draco's very existence ;)

# Chapter two: He does not like company

# 

”If I tell you, he swings the other way round, he does, even though me might not have realized it himself!”, Draco explained to Harry very excitedly. They were once again meeting at “their” bar, coffeeshop or however you would like to call it. Harry himself wasn’t sure about that either. The products sold there ranged from drinks to food and even shirts so a definite decision about the actual purpose of the store was hard to make. However, there was one thing he was sure about: It was a trendy place!

All the other customers he had seen while waiting for Draco (whom had explained to him that being on time was so not Malfoy style) were around his age and dressed way more fashionable than he would ever be able to. He himself stood out with his comfortable clothes which fulfilled no other purpose than to cover his body, as well as the blond man, who always seemed to wear formal clothing, be it a button down and dress pants or even a whole suit. Harry guessed that this was because they always met directly after work. He could not imagine that even Malfoy would find this type of fashion comfortable in his leisure time.

Which brought him back to wondering why it always was the same time slot. They were meeting each other for casual drinks for over two months now. The days tended to differ; the time of the days however always stayed the same. Before leaving first, the former Slytherin always suggested a date for their next meeting “at the usual time”. So far, Harry did not have the guts to ask the other man if there was a reason for that. He could already imagine plenty such as Malfoy not wanting to be seen with him or the blond aristocrat attending fancy balls and other high society gatherings in the evenings. Maybe it was as simple as Malfoy not wanting him to feel like they were dating. Which they were not! Harry could never imagine actually dating a man, particularly not Draco Malfoy! In fact, he could hardly imagine himself ever dating someone.

He was brought back into reality by the other man who closed his almost rant on how people would not see how obviously gay Tanner van Burm was in his opinion. “Of course, being out there in the open changes a lot for you…”, he closed his monologue which gave Harry the perfect opportunity to change the subject onto a matter he had wanted to discuss for quite a while now.

“But for you, not much has changed. I mean, you do not act different now than to how you did before!”, he brought himself back into the conversation. The man sitting opposite oh him carefully raised a single eyebrow and seemed to be having a hard time finding an accurate answer. Instead he asked a question:

“So, you do not think I have changed at all?”

While speaking, he looked Harry dead into the eyes, his voice sounding something between mildly offended and amused at the same time. Our beloved golden boy had to swallow hard before answering. Still, he was scared of insulting the other man and therefore giving him a reason not to meet up and talk anymore. Harry quite enjoyed these small encounters quite much.

“No, no, this wasn’t what I meant. Of course, you have changed, I mean, you are not a total git anymore. Since everyone knows…you…you did not turn totally…gay” He whispered the last word, not sure if it was okay to say it out loud which lead to Malfoy responding with a crooked smile and taking another sip from his drink.

“Well, everyone decides how they want to be seen in public, do they not?”, he answers cryptically. This is the one thing that had been frustrating Harry for weeks now. Whenever he tried to address how his outing had actually affected Malfoy, the other man always managed to either be cryptic or change subjects completely. But this time he would not give up so easily.

“But I mean, you did not become another person, you still look the same,” he managed to say while noticing that the blond was staring at the door behind him, a horrified expression on his face.

“Shit, how late is it Potter?”, Malfoy asked him quickly, his eyes still focused on something behind them that seemed to be coming closer. Irritated, Harry looked at the wall behind them which told him it was already fifteen minutes after the usual time Malfoy left. The latter one seemed to be rather nervous when Harry finally noticed the woman heading towards them.

Dressed in a dark green leather shirt combined with a light grey button down and very extravagant tights that featured intricate flower designs as well as some gem stones, she very well fitted into the environment. Her longish dark brown hair was half up done in a messy bun, that suited her well. While looking into her green eyes, Harry was not sure if he had seen a piercing in her nose. When he took a second glimpse, it for sure was gone.

She stopped at their table, her arms crossed in front of her chest and starred at Malfoy expectantly, completely ignoring Harry. He still wondered if he had seen her before. Something seemed to be familiar about her.

“So, this is where Mr. Too-Good-to-Be-on-Time-to-Meet-his-Best-Friend prefers to spent his afternoons, shagging cute boys he didn’t tell her about.”, she snarls at him. It was obvious that she was having a hard time not breaking out into laughter while talking, therefore her face looked quite tense, attempting to stay serious. While Malfoy only let out an annoyed sigh she turned towards Harry and for a moment lost all her cool attitude when she recognised him.

“Oh, Harry Potter! It has been ages since I last saw you!”, she exclaimed enthusiastically while grabbing an empty chair behind her. Sitting down, she held out her right hand in order to introduce herself to him.

“Astoria, Astoria Greengrass, in case you can’t remember,” she added with a witty wink. Harry shook her hand, still a bit confused if he was obligated to introduce himself now even though she obviously already knew who he was. She did not seem to mind him being quiet at all, as she simply continued talking.

“Oh, has Draco been annoying you with his work stories, Harry?”, she asked, now ignoring Malfoy completely herself. “He can be such an attention seeker from time to time, completely unlike his roommate.”, she jokingly explained to our favourite Gryffindor. The way she kept talking and how easy it was for her to force Malfoy into complete silence impressed Harry and he instantly decided, that he could become friends with this loud girl. 

Turning towards the blond, she finally acknowledged his presence once again.

“Draco, why didn’t you tell me, you were socializing with Harry? I would have loved to join the two of you. Maybe we should all go out some time,” she grinned at him. From the tone of her voice Harry could already hear that she was trying to provoke Malfoy by being overly open and friendly. He chuckled a bit as he noticed the other man’s face turning the slightest shade of red when he was addressed by who obviously had to be a very close friend who discovered a secret.

“’Toria, what do you want from me? May I assume that there is any other reason you do not even let me spend a few single, wholesome hours a day without your constant babbling than to drive me crazy?”

“Well,” she started, touching his hair with a confused expression, “I was having some difficulties renewing my Glamour, so I was wondering if you would be so kind as to do me the favour of helping me, Prince Draco.” Harry wondered if it was normal to be able to hear eyes rolling instead of even seeing them, because he clearly just now had. Also, the girl had mentioned Glamours, what was that supposed to mean?

“And this is something you could not simply have texted me? Instead you decided to stalk on me while I was having a lovely time over some drinks with a – friend?” It was only at the very last part of the sentence that Malfoy looked at him once again, an unasked question between them. While Harry was still wondering if he really considered himself and his former school rival actual friends now, Astoria Greengrass (whom he now finally remembered as the rather timid Slytherin girl two years below them) asked the exact same question:

“So, Harry, you and Draco are friends now?”

Malfoy quickly looked at him, silently asking for help and an answer himself and Harry remembered that they were bound by a contract not to reveal the actual topic of their meetings. Even though it had started rather rough until Harry managed to ease up in Malfoy’s company there was no logical reason to not assume, they were friends now.

“Yes, we started talking recently and, well Malf – I mean Draco – and I somehow became somethings like friends you could say,” he managed to answer after having taken one or two seconds to long. While talking about friendship he had stumbled about calling the other guy by his last name. If they actually wanted to become friends, they should use their first names, shouldn’t they? The name Malfoy reminded him of the git back in school who made their lives miserable. It was only logical to call him Draco now, wasn’t it? It sounded like a new start.

He could see the relief in the other man’s face and Harry wondered if this matter might be of higher importance to Mal- Draco as he himself would have thought. He still remembered the terrible eleven-year-old boy that wanted to be his friend in order to show him how the world spun. Harry smiled to himself. Somehow the situation was not that different. This time however it had been him who came to Draco for help. To Draco. Draco. Draco.

In his mind he repeated the first name over and over again. It sounded strange, unusual. He would need some time to get used to it. But the look on the other man’s face showed him, this was a step into the right direction. A Harry Potter who might be gay might also be friends with Draco Malfoy, he thought to himself and grinned a bit. His life seemed to finally be changing again after ages, finally the world seemed to be spinning again.

“Harry and I were just about to say goodbye before you interrupted us with matters that clearly could have waited,” Draco told Astoria in a voice that should sound annoyed but actually carried an amused tone. His eyes were focused on our favourite Gryffindor and Harry had to admit that the spark of mischief that lit them actually suited the blond man very well. It made his grey eyes just a notch warmer and felt like they were sharing a secret, not even Draco’s best friends knew about.

Astoria seemed to be aware of the unspoken pieces of information between them of which she would not become a part of. Shaking her head, she returned her attention towards Draco and brushed her hand through his hair, careful not to bring any strand out of place.

“Actually, we do not have that much time left Draco. My Glamour has already started fading and I am not so sure about yours either.”, she explained to him, brushing through his hair with a concentrated look, as if she was searching for something on his scalp. Again, that Glamour thing. Harry started wondering what this was supposed to mean. Malfoy – Draco! – looked like always, what reasons could he possibly have to enchant his appearance?

With an excusing smile Draco got up from his chair and said his goodbye to Harry, explaining that he actually had to leave, which – and while he was telling the next part he was viciously staring at Astoria – had nothing to do with the interruption caused by his annoying roommate. It was Harry’s time to pay so he did not feel in a hurry to get up at all. He could as well stay a moment longer and finish whatever this shake Draco had insisted, he had to try, was.

Astoria got up as well, grinning at the dark-haired man. She leaned a bit towards him and while fluttering her eyelashes asked something Harry would not have expected from a pureblood witch, but who was he to still make assumptions about people based on their past.

“Harry Dear, can you give me your phone number in case Draco misses another rendezvous? You know, just in case we have to start a nationwide search once again,” she explained while attempting to keep a straight face. Without even waiting for his answer, she stuffed her phone into his hands and let him no other choice than add his number to her contacts. The phone lay heavy in his hands. It was one of the brand-new ones, no less than 2 months old Harry would assume. Had he only been given the phone and the task to spot the owner of it in the room without any further piece of information, he would have still known it belonged to Astoria, he thought. The case was pitch black and featured all kinds of cute but creepy animals on them. It was on the very verge of still being stylish and not considered corny, but somehow it fit her.

While typing in his own number (oh what a lucky coincidence Hermione had forced him to learn it by heart just in case only this week!) he wondered whether Draco actually owned a smart phone as well and if he should dare to ask the blond man for his number – now that they considered each other friends this was not a weird request, wasn’t it? Unfortunately, we will never find out if the Saviour of our beloved Wizard World would have had the guts to do so as Astoria was forced to leave by a very pushy Draco, who now seemed self-aware of his hair as well as he nervously checked it in the bar mirrors. They left behind a smiling Harry who wondered if he had ever assumed Draco was sharing a flat with someone like that girl.

~

The next Saturday afternoon he spent as he often did, watching over his godson Teddy while Andromeda was busy finishing all the left-over stuff she did not manage to do with a quirky and very much attention seeking six-year-old around. Him playing with the boy had become a regular thing as soon as Teddy turned a year. It had always been something he felt confident doing by himself, something where he did not need Ginny or anyone else. He was good with kids. It was only after the break up that his monthly visits had turned into weekly ones and as much as Andromeda seemed to be thankful for his help, Harry could always see her hidden concern if he was alright.

Actually, he was, he noticed while he once more pushed Teddy who was sitting on his swing, his favourite thing to do outside right now. Harry’s action resulted in a very happy squeak coming from the little boy with the purple hair. It would be foolish to assume Teddy always wore his hair in that colour but as he insisted on attending a muggle school before going to Hogwarts, Andromeda had taught him a spell to glamour his hair into a specific colour. This enchantment made sure Teddy’s hair stayed the same during the day. As his grandmother strongly believed in the power of free will and making own choices, Teddy was allowed to decide which colour his glamoured hair should have. He went with purple (after all, he IS Tonks’s son, so what else did you expect?).

Spending time with children had always been something Harry loved doing. It was easier to interact with them than with adults. Children tended to say what they actually meant and did not conceal their feelings in order to protect you. As far as it concerned Harry, it had never been a good idea to do something to protect him. Usually this resulted in people getting into big danger or even dying. He hated being protected. He was not broken. Not special.

Maybe that was the reason he liked spending time with Draco. The other man knew about his past – their past. How it had really been. Malfoy never thought about him as being special, Harry remembered smirking, actually it had been quite the opposite. He wondered, if some parts of the arrogant brat were still inside the blond man. Well, of course there had to be. Draco was still very self-confident as well as his responses never lacked what Harry would best describe as wit. Was it possible that the former Slytherin had somehow grown into his character?

Harry was brought back into reality by Teddy who explained to him that his pants were ringing. Surprised, Harry rose an eyebrow. Of course, he was carrying his mobile phone with him just in case of an emergency. There were some areas like here on a muggle playground where a message delivered by an owl would definitely cause suspicion so three years ago he had given in to Hermione who had bought him a smart phone. Needless to say, Harry still used the same exact model and it was in perfect condition for its age. He always took care of the things he owned, treating them as if they were irreplaceable. Also, he scarcely used his phone.

Not even Ginny had used to text him. They all knew, he rarely responded. This was why he was in a hurry to check who had messaged him; it could have been an emergency. In her defence, if you later asked Astoria Greengrass, she would have considered her situation as an emergency that required immediate action. Harry’s brows rose higher and higher while reading through the texts.

_12:31: Hey Harry, how are you? D. forced me to write to you. He said I had to apologise for being ‘an annoying brat’. Can you imagine that? How rude! I thought the three of us got along perfectly well. But D. I always weird when his friends get to know his **other** friends, you know. Not that this happens very often. Well, I hope I will see you again soon, maybe without the git! ;D_

_12:32: Oh, by the way, I am soooooo bored today and nobody is replying to my texts._

_12:34: And you are also not! _ _☹_

_12:34: Btw, this is Astoria writing :D You for sure remember me, the dark-haired vixen, bane of Draco’s existence _ _😉_

Well Astoria was for sure one of a kind, he thought to himself. A bit pushy but some how quite charming. And it had never happened, that someone he just met texted him simply because they were bored and attempted to engage in small talk. Not that he was good at that. In fact, our Golden boy was quite the opposite of a conversation maker. But why not try something new. If befriending Draco Malfoy did not turn out to be a bad idea, why should getting to know his friends then be?

_12:40: Hi Astoria. I didn’t think you were totally annoying. Did Draco really force you to write me?_

This was harder than he imagined. He had been searching for words for a good five minutes before finally being pleased with his message. Former drafts had included quite a few phrases that could easily be interpreted as being rude such as “you were only annoying at the beginning which freaked me out a bit. But I like that you always make fun of Draco” or “I thought that you were quite impolite at the beginning so Draco was right” or “Isn’t it terribly thoughtless to call your best friend a git?” So, you see, the message he settled with was the tamest he could come up with.

_12:40: I take “not totally” as a compliment, just to let you know!_

_12:40: Well, he did not actually force me. His wording was more like “do not dare to peeve Potter ever again or you will need to search for a new roof over your stunning head sooner than you would like to!”_

_12:43: Did he really call you stunning?_

_12:43: Well that part is up to interpretation! Might not be the same exact words but the thought counts._

_12:46: Well, why did you write me then?_

_12:47: I already told you that, silly! I was bored and you seemed to be fun to chat with. Should I stop? :’( _

_12:50: No, it’s fine, I guess._

_12:51: Phew! Lucky me! So, what are you up to right now?_

_12:58: Not much. Taking care of Teddy. _

_12:59: Teddy Lupin? Oh, I see, this is why it takes you ages to respond!_

Harry did not have it in his heart to tell he, he was typing as fast as he could right now while Teddy was sitting on his lap and helping him to sound ‘cooler’. He in fact had to admit that the boy was better in that small talk thing than himself. Still, Harry was not willing to ask Astoria what her favourite dinosaur was or what was her favourite toy. Especially the last one could sound wrong. Very wrong. Not that Teddy cared.

_13:00: Is babysitting on Saturdays kind of your thing? And say hello to Teddy from me!_

This message resulted in Teddy squeaking happily when Harry read it to him. It also reminded the two boys that it was time to go back home. Before Teddy went to school, he had no friends outside the wizarding world but this had changed a lot until now. Andromeda would be home in about ten minutes to escort the boy to a playdate he had arranged himself. So, this meant that Harry’s time with him would be over pretty soon. When Teddy still had been a toddler, he would always cry when Harry left. Now it was Harry feeling a bit empty when he dropped of his godson and realized that he had a long day of doing nothing ahead of him. With a shrug of his shoulders he took out his phone again and replied to Astoria.

_13:14: Actually, Teddy is too busy to hang out anymore._

_13:14: That means you are free? _

_13:17: Seems so._

_13:17: Great. That’s the address._

And as simply as that she sent him a picture with the actual address of her or let’s be honest Draco’s apartment. To Harry’s surprise, the street was not anywhere near muggle London but in the very heart of the city centre. Maybe this was the reason Malf – Draco was so secretive about his address. When Harry thought about it, nobody seemed to know where the blond man actually lived as all written conversation took place via owls which were discretely sent to an owling station. Obviously, Draco did not like surprise visits so Harry definitely would not simply go there without the other man’s permission.

~

Never underestimate the stubbornness of a Slytherin! Most of them are gifted with a silver tongue and not afraid to extensively use it to get what they want. In this case it was Harry’s company. He still wondered how she had gotten him to come over while he was waiting in front of the apartment door, already in the building. It had taken her several more messages (if you count five as a lot, for Harry who never received texts this number obviously was) to convince him it would be a great idea to swing by. She had also ensured him Draco was absolutely fine with it.

Taking another deep breath, Harry carefully knocked at the door, still feeling like he was about to do something very intimate. ‘Don’t be silly’, he told himself, ‘people visit each other all the time! Also, I was definitely invited!’ The door opened and Astoria’s smiling face greeted him, she was obviously glad to see him. For a brief moment Harry thought that she looked different to when he last met her. He could have sworn, there was something glittering in her face once again.

“Harry, good to see you. Come on in. Leave your jacket, shoes and glamours at the door!” With that words she gestured him to come inside and closed the door behind herself. Without waiting for him to take of his shoes she already went back inside the apartment which gave Harry the chance to take a look around. The hall was bright and the only thing in there were five cloak hooks, for of them currently empty. It did not seem as if Draco actually was at home. Harry did not like that thought at all. Still, he put his shoes on the shelf below the hooks and hung his old jacket next to Astoria’s which seemed to be a rather formal blazer with glittering pinstripes. He carefully made his way further into the apartment. After only a few steps he felt the tingling sensation of magic.

It was as if the flat was trying to slide any enchantment off of him. Was this what Astoria had meant by leaving glamours outside? He began to wonder if she was wearing any. Stepping around the corner he found himself in a very large room with bright white walls. It featured an elegant and modern dining table with four chairs as well as a couch and to his big surprise a telly. To be specific a brand-new flat screen which had been placed on a small sideboard. While the room itself was very bright, featuring huge window fronts to two sides, the furniture was held in dark earthy tones. Here and there a tiny bit of decoration was added such as a small plant on the coffee table or a few photographs on the wall behind the telly.

Before Harry had the chance to inspect said picture any closer Astoria returned from the open kitchen which was connected to the room, carrying two cups of steaming hot tea. She smiled at Harry, obviously feeling content with herself. He noticed that something had changed about her face. Now he could definitely see the small silver metal ring piercing through her nose. She was wearing her hair up in a bun once again but this time he noticed she had shaved the right side of her head so only short stubbles of hair covered her scalp. The arm she held out the teacup towards Harry featured at least three tattoos. One automatically drew in all his attention. It was the one thing he had been afraid to see on Draco. The constant reminder of their past. The Dark Mark.

Although still being clearly visible, it had been altered. The hollow eyes of the skull had been filled with colourful flowers Harry did not know and the body of the snake seemed to be crackling, brittle stone. Below it the tattoo continued with a banner featuring the words “_Ego faciem meam metus_”. Harry could not help himself but stare at it. In a strange way it was almost beautiful. Not knowing what to say or how to react he took the tea from her and looked into her face. She carefully observed him with a cautious smile. Astoria had not even attempted to cover it up. Like a giant scar it was omnipresent. He knew the feeling. Also, he realized that if they really wanted to become friends, him her and … Draco they one day had to talk about this. But not today. Other matters seemed to be more important right now.

“So, this is how you look without Glamours,” he began, not knowing how to go on. Luckily, she seemed to have regained her confidence, nipping at her tea before grinning at him.

“Yeah, I mean, I would prefer to not wear them at all but could you imagine the gossip? ‘Astoria Greengrass turning into a muggle hipster’ What is happening to the traditional wizarding families’. Oh dear, it would break my mother’s heart if once again the wizarding world would viciously gossip about me.”

Suddenly Harry remembered the rumours that had come up right after he left Hogwarts. There had been a time when the wizarding world was absolutely sure Draco Malfoy would marry this girl. And then he disappeared for almost a year, returning with the news he wanted to start his own business.

“Bad enough, that I am living with a man who is definitely not going to marry me!”, she sighted dramatically while getting comfortable on the small dark brown couch. Harry decided to keep her company as it really started to feel weird standing in the middle of a room, holding a cup of tea. She put her legs on the cushions as well and Harry noticed she was actually wearing comfortable sweat pants. Somehow, he did not expect her to even own such a piece of clothing. At the same moment when he scolded himself for this silly thought he wondered if that could mean Draco also wore comfortable clothes at home. He could definitely not imagine that at all!

After a few initial difficulties to get their conversation going (which Astoria was not the reason for, just to let you know) they were engaged in a vivid chat about how annoying ball season at the Minister was and how much they hated the gross food people there considered fancy. So, no wonder, they did not hear the key turning in the lock nor notice the noises made by someone getting rid of their shoes and coat. Only when a familiar voice from the hall shouted, they stopped talking.

“Astoria, if I enter the living room to find you snogging another random bloke on my favourite couch without warning me first, I am going to kill you with a plastic spoon!”, Draco explained calmly while coming around the corner.

Harry had tried his best to prepare himself mentally to see Draco without his Glamour. The blond man obviously wore one as well, our Golden Boy had successfully concluded. He had tried to imagine what his former rival was hiding under the enchantment. He had considered a tiny but tasteful tattoo, maybe even an earring but by Merlin was he not prepared for what he was actually seeing right now.

Holding two bags of takeaways food in his left hand, Draco Malfoy had just entered the room and noticed it was Harry sitting on the couch. The former Slytherin seemed to momentarily be frozen into place, the sleeveless white shirt hanging loosely from his body while his right hand was carelessly brushing through his hair. Which was not neatly combed back but messy. And in a bun. And bright pink. The colour automatically reminded Harry of fluffy stuffed animals and cotton candy. If that alone had not been confusing enough, Draco’s arms were full on covered in black and white tattoos. His bottom lip was pierced on the left side, a tiny silver ring curved around it.

‘Well, at least I wasn’t wrong about the earring’, Harry thought to himself. Although, the “earring” indeed was not a single, tiny piece of jewellery but at least four on the left and three on the right side. Also, there was some sort of larger earpiece at the very front of Draco’s left ear.

After needing several moments to find the right words, Draco attempted a crooked smile and managed to say: “Well, maybe I have changed a bit more than you had expected?”


	4. Chapter three: He is very secretive about his private life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Daphne Greengrass to Harry and Harry to Draco's private life.

# Chapter three: He is very secretive about his private life

The soft pink hair glittered in the warm afternoon sun as if it was trying to become the star of a hair conditioner commercial. The individual strands were not all evenly coloured but upon a closer look varied from a rose blond to a deep rosé tone. All in all, it was rather pastel than saturated. The dark eyebrows contrasted harmoniously with the extraordinary hair colour and the pale skin tone. Now that Draco had come a bit closer Harry could even see the faint traces of freckles around the pointy nose.

The piercing in the bottom lip was located rather on the outer half and currently the tattooed man was chewing on it, clearly expecting some sort of reaction. ‘His hair colour makes his grey eyes stand out more’, Harry thought to himself while still staring at the other guy. Somehow the lack of controlled style suited Draco more than the slick back hair our beloved Gryffindor was used to. The messy bun managed to soften the sharp and pointy features a bit, giving the former Slytherin more of an edgy but approachable vibe.

Harry smiled to himself. It needed someone like Draco Malfoy to wear bright pink hair and look sociable. It actually suited him well. He seemed more natural, not as if he was holding back anything anymore. Harry wondered if it had been the fact, that Draco was glamoured all the time that had given the impression of slight discomfort.

“Potter, you make me feel like a two-headed unicorn at a child’s birthday party,” the pink haired man finally managed to comment. His voice lacked a bit of the usual sharpness and if Harry had believed it was even possible, he could have sworn it sounded vulnerable. (Which obviously was true, I mean, how would you react if your best kept secret was being exposed to someone whom you just started considering being your friends a few weeks ago? But we have not arrived at that part of the story where Harry notices Draco is, in fact, a human being.)

“You look different …,” the dark-haired mess with words commented on the obvious. Harry had never been great at expressing himself but that was a low, even for him. Draco still reacted, brushing back some loose hair behind the left ear. With that he exposed the earrings. It were in fact four tiny silver rings and a larger black tunnel. With a bit of surprise, Harry noticed he could actually look through the hole. “…but not in like a bad way”, he desperately tried to finish his sentence on a more positive and not so darn obvious note.

Draco looked him straight in the eyes with what could only be described as a smug smile and leaned a bit towards him. Even though they were still a few feet apart Harry could feel the heat rushing into his cheeks. He suddenly realized that the other man was quite a few centimetres taller than himself, looking down at him with a lot more confidence than Harry had ever owned himself. He looked so poised and at peace with himself.

“Potter, I darn well know how breathtakingly handsome I look. I mean, what would be the point of dying my hair and suffering endless hours of pain if the result did not turn out to be unbelievable stunning,” while holding what sounded like a lecture on his beauty he pointed onto his tattooed arms, “but thank you for appreciating it. If you want to continue staring at me, I am sure my assistant Miss Greengrass would be glad to sell you an autographed photograph of me. But,” and with that comment he turned his head towards his roommate, “not the naughty stuff, that is only for premium fan club members!”

He demonstratively turned around on one heel and went to the kitchen only to return back mere seconds later with three plates and cutlery. Harry (who still felt his cheeks burning because of the thought of naked pictures of Draco) noticed the atmosphere had changed once again and relaxed a but while the two former Slytherins sat down on the couch and started placing food on the plates.

He was still wondering if this was the moment where it would be polite to leave them alone when Draco addressed him: “I really hope you like dumplings. This is a dumpling house.” With a charming half smile, the pink haired man patted the cushions next to him, offering Harry a seat.

Luckily our favourite Gryffindor actually loved dumplings. The taste of the different vegetables mixed with the hot sauce made his mouth tingle. The fact, that Astoria constantly tried to steal from Draco’s plate on the other hand made him giggle quite a lot. The other man defended his food as if it was the most precious thing on earth, climbing onto the cushions and eating while squatting on the couch. Harry wondered to himself, if secretively the Slytherins had always been like that when they were by themselves.

Of course, they had been! Back then they were children just as much as he himself and his friends. The prejudice that the other house was constantly plotting evil schemes against him was something he thought he had overcome a long time ago. Wasn’t it obvious, Draco was not the tiny Malfoy brat anymore?

While finishing the delicious food he let his gaze wander and looked at the framed pictures on the opposite wall once again. They seemed to show Astoria together with another girl, as well as different man with bright hair colours. Only after a few seconds Harry noticed all of them were the same guy. With a flick of his wand and a whispered “Accio!” Draco, who of course had noticed him starring, summoned the pictures from the wall to fly closely in front of them so Harry could finally have good look at them.

“This terrible home décor decision, pressed upon my beautiful apartment by two malevolent witches illustrates the colourful story of how I tried to express my inner unicorn through different hair colours,” he managed to explain with a straight face, sounding more than stern. Had it not been for Astoria who broke out in laughter, Harry may have thought the other man was serious.

“So,” he finally found his words again, “how did you end up with pink then?”

Draco gave him a very short crooked smile and Harry noticed how well placed the piercing actually was, moving just the lightest bit to enforce the expression. All of the piercings and the extravagant hair colour really made Draco look more approachable. And handsome. Which Harry only noticed because he was still figuring out if he was gay and automatically checked out every guy. Not that Draco was his type. Definitely not, he did not even have a type! And even if it could never be someone who stood out from any crowd so much!

“Well, it has been quite a journey,” Draco started what already sounded like a rather longish lecture once again. He actually still loved to talk about himself Harry noted in the back of his mind. “The first step was to try something different, something definitely not me.”

A picture of a younger Draco probably taken shortly after their graduation flew by. He had pitch black hair in that one. Even though he did not look bad, the colour made him look even paler than usual. Also, he was skinny in that picture. Not that he was heavy today but the Draco on the picture was scrawny and seemed to be very tired. It was replaced by another one, taken a few months later.

“Obviously, I could not stick to that colour,” the explanation went on. The next Draco still looked stressed out but he already had the first earrings. His hair was shorter but had a deep petrol colour. He was again very pale, however. The next one had him feature dark blue hair, then lighter, then soft green, purple and finally pink. With every picture the number of piercings and tattoos grew the same way the black circles under his eyes got lighter. Harry noticed that only the first two pictures had featured Draco by himself in the black clothes he had been wearing during their last school years. After that his wardrobe had become less formal and brighter. Astoria was in many of the latter ones as well as Pansy Parkinson, stylish as ever, and another girl around the same age which had bleach blonde hair in most of the pictures and bore a distinctive similarity to Astoria.

Harry got more and more comfortable while listening to Draco babble about each hair colour, fashion choice and nonsense concerning the photographs. He even stretched a bit on the couch while Astoria was serving some tea. Time seemed to fly by and he noticed that he enjoyed spending time with Draco like this even more than meeting up in a bar. But the other guy would not have been in Slytherin for good if he didn’t somehow sense Harry’s train of thoughts.

“So now that you have heard all about my magical hair story, is it still weird to you?”, Draco asked with a half-smile on his lips once again and Harry could not stop wondering how anyone could be fooled by a Glamour if he looked way more natural like this.

“No, nothing about it is weird. It all makes sense, the apartment, your hair. I like all of it”, he mumbled in response. The moment he noticed what he had just said, the Saviour of the Wizarding World could have slapped himself. In the face. Very hard. In comparison to Draco he was so unbelievable clumsy with words. He wondered, why the other two would not make fun of him.

Instead, Astoria turned towards Draco with an enormous grin and explained: “If that’s so Harry, you should come around more often and keep us company!”

~

Some friendships develop just naturally. This was how hanging around with Astoria felt like for Harry. It was very easy and somehow reminded him of when things had not been weird between Ginny and him, the time before they were official. He kept wondering if that was what had ruined their friendship. When he was with Astoria, he felt more confident and from time to time even managed to be witty. In all her extravaganza she made a really good friend for Harry, who forced him out of his comfort zone.

Speaking of extravaganza: then there was Draco. Handsome, sharp tongued, flirty Draco who always seemed like he knew what to say. Who loved making Harry blush when referring to his tattoos, especially when it was about the ones covered by clothes. “If you already like this arrangement, I am sure my thighs would excite you even more”, he had explained to Harry when the dark-haired man had tried to inspect upon Draco’s arms a bit closer. When Astoria had become quite touchy the opposite had happened to her roommate. Not that he was being unfriendly or unwelcoming – more than once Draco had believably expressed how happy he was that they finally got along – but he definitely kept physical distance. 

He indeed had been frequenting the apartment regularly now instead of meeting up with Draco by himself. Most of the times it still was the latter or his roommate who invited him over but from time to time Harry managed to ask Draco what he was up to on a certain date to find out if he was free. Which he often wasn’t due to self-employment. He however managed to always give our favourite Gryffindor an alternative date - as if he were scared that our dark-haired mess would stop asking to spend time with him.

They often went to take out places and had their dinner at the apartment but sometimes Astoria more felt like “fancy food” as she declared and they went to a muggle restaurant in walkable distance. As their place was located in Soho, they had plenty of choice. And they always seemed searching for just the next weird dish to try. Astoria had been joking about that quite some times, referring to Draco as “easily bored, always looking for the next adventure” which had led to the pink-haired not talking to her for the rest o the evening and Harry wondering if that was true for his sexual partners as well.

Even though, they still talked about the sexuality thing from time to time, the matter somehow had lost its urgency for Harry. He still was not sure what his actual preferences were but he was not questioning himself all of the time anymore. Maybe it was because of something Draco had told him.

“You will know it when you meet someone you are attracted to. It is as simple as that. Do not overthink it. I always thought you Gryffindorks were great at trusting their guts, Potter!”

Whenever they had this type of serious conversation Draco tended to end it with something that was actually helpful. He, however, always paired it with a tiny insult – even if it was just going back to last names. Still, Harry thought, he had a point. Do not rush it. When Hermione had given him the very same advice, he had simply shrugged it off. From Draco it seemed to carry more weight. “Maybe because he knows the feeling of being unsure”, she had explained with a knowing smile. Harry hated it when she gave him that look as if she knew a secret, he should be obvious about as well but wouldn’t want to ruin the moment of enlightenment for him.

For now, Harry actually was happy with how his life was going. He had found a new friend in Astoria and as long as he could talk to Draco about the sex thing, that was enough. He really liked spending time with both of them, but on a different level. Toria was his friend to chat and laugh and feel comfortable around, Draco however, was fascinating, witty and charming. Harry did not feel any desire to meet someone else in his life. He wondered, if he ever met someone who would make him realize his sexual preferences. It would still take our beloved Golden Boy a few more weeks until he realized what Hermione at this point had already found out while quietly listening to him lionizing about how different Draco was. Of course, the confidentiality pact made sure, Harry did not spill out any kind of information on Draco’s actual looks but still he had plenty of reason to talk about his former rival.

Sometimes Harry wondered, how Draco would even get to know potential partners. As his first and only relationship had developed out of a long friendship and all his friends in relationships (which were Hermione and Ron, to be honest) had known their partners from back at school, he had absolutely no clue as where one could go to meet new people, though this would certainly change after the night that lay before or Hero.

~

It all had started quiet innocent with a text from Astoria, asking him how to cook Ratatouille. Thinking back, he realized, he should have wondered why she was attempting to create a dish on her own. She had already admitted she was a horrible cook weeks before. He could undoubtedly have known things would not turn out well. He should most certainly have realized he would have to run for her rescue the moment she had asked the recipe. In the aftermath he clearly should have been able to predict he was going to end in Draco’s kitchen, cooking dinner for Daphne while Astoria despairingly tried to be of any help. Which she was not.

He ended up sending her into the living room where she happily decorated the table, glad to finally be useful. This left Harry alone with a giant mess of burnt vegetables and a lot of time to think about the situation. He was going to prepare dinner for a strange of whom he did not know more that she was Astoria’s elder sister, had attempted Hogwarts at the same time as himself, was a friend of Pansy Parkinson (He had remembered that himself!) and according to the pictures seemed to favour blond hair on herself.

He wondered if she was going to be as loud and chirpy as her little sister when he heard Draco entering the apartment. The pink-haired man went straight for the kitchen, carrying two stuffed bags full of what seemed to be bottles and still wearing his coat. With a raised eyebrow he nodded at Harry.

“Have you decided to be our very own maiden for free or why are you trying to burn down my perfectly fine kitchen?”, he asked with a short wink. His voice sounded way too pleased with himself and arrogant for the other man’s taste. Harry furled his eyebrows in a mixture of anger and surprise. Hadn’t Astoria told Draco she had asked for help?

“I am trying to save whatever your roommate has left over and turn it into something edible for a guest I don’t know! Don’t worry, I will be gone long before your little party starts!”, he snarled back at the other man. If his help was not wanted, why did they ask for him! There were a lot of things, Harry was capable of being made fun of for. His cooking was not one of them.

With a surprised expression Draco left the kitchen, not saying a word and Harry immediately regretted being emotional about such a tiny matter. He focused back on the vegetables, slowly simmering in the pan in front of him. Therefore, it took him a moment to notice Draco had returned shortly after, this time without his coat. Instead, he was holding two fancy looking glasses in his hands, both filled with a liquid that was translucent at the top, slowly turning into bright red at the bottom of the glass. A single, deep red cherry was placed at the edge of it.

“Care for a drink then, Mr. party saver and master cook?”, Draco asked, a faint hint of seductiveness lingering in his voice. He casually leaned against the kitchen counter, offering one drink with his left hand while taking a sip from his own glass. He was not facing Harry when the other man took the beverage. It was rather sour but has a sweet, alcoholic aftertaste, the dark-haired noticed. Nothing he had ever tried before. He softly licked his lips and searched for Draco’s eyes which now were focusing directly on him. For a quarter of a second a shiver ran down Harry’s spine when his eyes found the dark grey ones. Had they always been carrying so many emotions? He could clearly read the mixture of amusement, interest and something else out of it. A challenge. Quickly, Harry took another sip. Whatever it was, it tasted delicious, like fruits and sugar, a soft bitterness to it. Temptation. Would the taste also linger on Draco’s lips he wondered? As quickly as the grey eyes had found his, they gazed away again. Harry blushed. What was he thinking?

“It is delicious,” he mumbled, putting down the glass and redirecting his attention back to the dish he was currently preparing. He swallowed hard. Draco was only teasing him and he simply reacted because he was not used to get this much attention from anyone, be it male or female. This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that as soon as he thought about Draco, his mind was fixed on an image of a crooked smile, half open lips…

He cleared his throat and managed to ask: “What is it?” His voice sounded terrible, rough and scratchy. What was wrong with him? He was not supposed to act like this around Draco. They were friends! The other man left his position and walked behind the counter so that the were now facing each other over the stove. A faint reminder of what was once a half smile still lingered on his lips when he put a finger into his glass and swirled it around, He had the nerve to lick the liquid off of said finger while still staring at Harry who was now sure, Draco was playing his usual game with him.

“A Singapore Sling, a cocktail made famous by the Raffles Hotel in Singapore”, he explained with an eyebrow raised in excitement as he always had when he got the chance to show off with his knowledge or skills. “The main ingredients are gin, cherry liquor, Bénédictine and Cointreau mixed together with a hit of grenadine, some fresh lime juice and bitters, shaken with approximately three ice cubes, filtered, filled up with soda and served in a high glass with a single cherry. Well, at least this is how I make it.”

He took another sip, obviously pleased with himself and the fact, that he perfectly knew, Harry had only understood half of the terms he was using to impress him. The cocktail however did actually taste simply amazing, the Gryffindor had to give him that.

“I hope you like it, it is one of Daphne’s favourites, so you will be having quite a lot of them tonight when we go out,” Draco added after a moment as if this information was nothing. Harry stared at him blankly, needing a few seconds to process. Was that supposed to be an invitation?

“Or do you have any other plans for tonight, master cook?”, Draco playfully asked. As soon as Harry shook his head, the pink haired man turned on his heels into the living room, four platters in his hands and explaining that they had to hurry up a bit as Daphne should be arriving is about an hour and he for sure had to get dressed up a bit to celebrate the occasion.

~

She was everything Harry had expected her to be and so much more. Daphne Greengrass was definitely Astoria’s sister, that one was for sure. Let alone the way she talked and used the same little gestures to show excitement was so much alike her younger sibling there couldn’t be any doubt. However, she was quite different to her bubbly, always high energy sister.

Where Harry had never seen Astoria without painted fingernails, even if they were chipped most of the time, Daphne had very beautiful, long nails which were held at a practical length. The only makeup she was wearing was a deep red lip and a faint dark eyeliner. There was neither glitter in her face nor had she styled her hair in a particular manner. It just hung loose unto her chin, being parted slightly more on the right side of her face. It was definitely died a few nuances brighter than her natural colour as far as he could remember.

In contrast to her sibling and Draco, her outfit was more casual, a lose fitting, black crop top and some high waits hot pants with dark tights that were just see through enough to let the viewer be certain, her legs were almost covered in tattoos. Needless to say, she was pretty with her rather sharp nose and the two piercings in her lip, one on the outer right corner, one in the centre of the bottom lip.

When she had entered the apartment, Astoria was immediately running towards her, babbling and hugging her while she was still getting the buttons of her jacket undone. Draco had been a bit more reserved at first but given her a big smile when she kissed him on the cheek, not staining his skin with her lipstick. And then it had been Harry’s turn. It should have felt awkward to meet someone whom you barely knew at their homecoming party but somehow it did not. She had looked at him for a second and seemed to be puzzled but then had decided to kiss him on the cheek as well and ask if the delicious smelling food was thanks to him as for sure the other two maniacs had never been capable of preparing a dish that needed more skill than opening a can or boiling noodles. After making sure that she and her “guest” were served drinks, she invited Harry to the table and they had a rather wholesome dinner together where she talked about her travel through Europe. Again, there had been moments, Harry was wondering how exactly he had ended up here but he enjoyed the company of those three way to much to really give a second thought. Which was basically how he had ended up here, in front of the most popular LGTB+ club in Soho at the moment, waiting to go on his first “super gay fun time adventure” as Astoria had called it.

If he hadn’t felt so unbelievably underdressed and conscious about his looks, he might have enjoyed the colourful crowd around him way more. But standing next to Astoria made him realize how little he knew about fashion. She was wearing boots with gigantic heels that made her taller than him, together with tights that were shaped like kitty heads at her knees an a very short black dress. He hair was half way up done in two tiny buns above her ears that made her look like a character from those Japanese cartoons. Her eyes were covered in glitter and she was enthusiastically chatting with Draco.

Harry had always known that Draco Malfoy knew his way around fashion and today was the living prove for that. The pink haired man was dressed in a black button-down shirt that had a round neck closing directly below his Adam’s apple. Over that he wore a short, rather casual waistcoat. All of that would have been bearable had it not been for those skin tight black pants that hugged ever inch of Draco’s lower body and left very little to the imagination and ended in very elegant boots. Together with the loose bun he looked like the perfect mixture between an old school dandy and a modern rebel. The sleeves were rolled up unto the elbows, showing of the tattoo covered arms which Harry still felt the desire to inspect more closely.

And then there was him. Plain old Harry in his plain old orange shirt with his plain old, worn out jeans and plain old dirty sneakers. His hair was as ruffled as always and he could have sworn he had spotted some leftover sauce somewhere on his face. He felt so underdressed. Had it not been for Draco earlier on he for sure had insisted on a fresh set of clothes. But when Astoria had asked him if this was how he planned on going out, Draco had immediately reacted for him, explaining to her that Harry looked just fine as he was. Needless to say, that once again the heart of the Savour of the Wizarding world had skipped a beat when her heard that but his explanation for that reaction had been the simple fact that he had already drunken three of Draco’s tasty but dangerous cocktails.

He was still tipping from one foot to another when they entered the club and a whole new world opened up in front of him. The broadest variety of people he could have imagined filled the spacious room, most of them dancing to the loud music, some sitting in comfortable chairs at the sides, engaged in drinks and conversation. Directly next to him, two young men around his age were pressing against a way, totally occupied with each other. The brunet was fiercely grabbing onto the butt of the dark haired who was stroking his back, desperately trying to get under his partner’s shirt. They were kissing passionately end even from a distance Harry could clearly see their tongues moving. They clanged at each other as if there were no tomorrow and while staring at them and feeling really impolite, Harry noticed that he found it incredibly hot how the two male bodies rubbed against each other in sheer desire.

“Well, it seems as if Robert and Daniel are back together once again, let’s celebrate that with drinks”, Daphne announced just loud enough that the other three could hear her. Astoria grabbed Harry’s wrist and dragged him towards the bar at the centre of the dancing area. How in the world were they supposed to get drinks in this crowded place, he kept wondering? But as soon as they reached their destination, Harry noticed that there in fact was an empty table next to the bar which was clearly reserved for them as a huge “Welcome back, Daphne!” sign covered half a giant chair made from red velvet to resemble a throne.

Quite naturally, Daphne occupied her “throne” and Draco sat opposite of her, leaving the small but comfortable couch for Harry and Astoria. The latter chose to sit closely to her sister and go on chattering about the two guys kissing in the corner. That left Harry no choice but sit next to Draco. The pink-haired man had immediately been attacked by not only one but three bartenders who obviously seemed more interested in fulfilling his ever wish than in reacting to the crowd of people who had been waiting for their drinks a considering longer time than their group had. Harry was just about to turn around to the two girls and ask them what all that fuss was about when Draco had managed to get rid of the barkeepers and leaned very closely to asked him a simple question that in that moment meant quite a lot:

“Do you like it?”

Harry was definitely not sure what he meant by that phrase. The girls? The party? The club? Their seats? Or maybe he was referring to the whole evening? Or did he actually mean the two kissing guys Daniel and whomever? Harry noticed himself grinning at his counterpart wildly. He kept looking through the room where people of all skin colour and sexual orientation were dancing. He could spot some adorable Drag Queens as well as a few other kissing couples and he really, really felt comfortable. It was way too loud and overcrowded. The air was full of different smells – not all of them pleasant - and still: He loved it.

When he turned towards Draco to finally answer the question, their noses almost bumped together. The other man was still leaning in closely, probably to make it easier for him to answer without having to scream against the loud music. For a moment their faces were so close, their lips were almost in kissing distance. Then luckily their drinks came and Harry had the opportunity to change the subject. They were sticking to the same cocktail as they had before and it almost tasted the same as the ones Draco had made back at home.

“How did you get this table?” he managed to scream against the loud, leaning towards the other guy once again. Draco’s answer was a smug smile and he gestured Harry to come closer, so he could whisper or should I better say shout into his ear:

“I used to work here from time to time. Helped with the recipes for the cocktails. You know, great potions student makes a great barkeeper, that’s for sure!”

Harry really tried hard to focus on the words instead of the sensation of having another man being so close to him. He could feel Draco’s breath on his skin, tingling all the way down to his spine. It was an irritation, odd and new sensation. Even in the crowded room he could smell the faint remains of his perfume. It was light and herbal with a distinctive sweetness to it. ‘How strange’, he thought, ‘I always assumed Malfoy would smell like citrus.’

But this was not Malfoy anymore. The guy sitting next to him was Draco, a man who had worked in a gay bar. Who shared a flat with a good friend. Who liked to get take away food and eat it on the couch. Who really tried hard to make Harry feel welcome. The pink-haired, tattooed, freckled and careless Draco of course still was the same person. He was snarling at people, loved to talk about himself and most of the time kept his distance but Harry actually liked that about him.

He was brought back into reality by a soft pull on his sleeve. Astoria was looking at him and then pointing at the dance floor. By Merlin, she could not be serious! He was not a dancer! Looking around, he noticed, they had already gotten their next round of drinks and he was really starting to feel them. His insides felt, well, warm and fuzzy. He had always been a light weight; how did he assume he would manage to keep up with them? Searching for help, he tried to return to the conversation with Draco. Whispering in his ear would still be better as to dance, even though his stomach felt a bit weird when the other man’s lips almost touched his ears. But Draco was not in his seat anymore. Instead, he had already moved to the dance floor and stirred his head following the beats of the music.

Nobody would come to his rescue Harry noticed and gave up. Hoping it would calm him a bit, he finished his drink at once and followed Astoria to the dance floor. He could just stand there for a bit and move his head and then silently go back to his chair. He would not dance.

Three shots later he found himself not at the outer corner anymore but in the middle of the crowd, moving his body carelessly to the music, hands linked with Astoria who was obviously enjoying herself. Again, it was her who helped him ease up. First, he had only followed her movements and felt a bit weird but the light intoxication had helped him with the overthinking and now he quite enjoyed it. Astoria’s dancing reminded him of a snake winding in between obstacles. She managed to not really touch anyone but gave the impression as if she almost would.

A guy about her height with light blond hair and glitter all over his face was approaching her right now, trying to get closer. With a laugh on her face and without letting go of Harry’s hand she went for it and started dancing in his direction, eyes locked on the guys lips, she seductively moved her head. Harry saw the kiss coming way before it actually happened. It looked playful and fun, not as heated as the two guys he had watched before.

When she broke it of with a laugh and turned towards Harry, the alcohol in his brain left him no other choice as to mumble “Me too.” She smiled at him softly, cupping his hips with her free hand and pushed him closer. Their kiss was short and sweet and light. He could taste the cocktail, smell the sweet odour of her sweat and perfume and feel her body having fun. This was definitely not a lover’s kiss but he liked it.

When she loosened her grip on him and he opened his eyes once again, he noticed the guy from before was not gone as he assumed but still dancing closely, this time giving Harry his full attention. It might have been the adrenaline rush but our favorite Gryffindor felt as courageous as any member of his house ever did and let go of Astoria’s hand to turn towards the other man and dance. The blond guy grinned as Harry approached him, but instead of dancing, he gripped the front of the orange shirt and pulled him closer.

In the split seconds before their lips met, Harry noticed how different it felt this time, a firm body pressing against his own, soft stubbles rubbing on his cheeks. And the smell, by Merlin, the smell! It made him push closer, leaning in with his whole body. He gripped the man’s head and pulled him closer, opening his lips a bit. This was different than anything he had experienced before. Better. If there was one thing Harry Potter was certain of now, he preferred kissing blokes.

After the kiss, the other man let go of him pretty soon and left the dance floor with a playful wink. Harry definitely needed a drink now. He fought his way back to the table where he found Draco sitting by himself, staring at him. Still feeling the high of the kisses in his chest, he sat next to him and smiled. Draco leaned in again and asked: “Are you enjoying yourself?”

This time Harry turned so quickly that their noses actually bumped which he did not care about. Instead of answering, he leaned in and his lips brushed Draco’s wanting more of that tingling sensation that made his head spin in circles. This time his lips felt electric, as if there was a spark and he tried to get more. More of the softness of the pink-haired man’s lips, more of the smell, more of the sensation of being not only close to a man but beautiful Draco out of all of them. Draco however had other plans. After what had felt like him opening his lips and kissing Harry back, he had quickly withdrawn, currently starring at the ground.

“Sorry, I am not really a huge kisser, Harry,” he explained loudly with what sounded almost like hurt in his voice. For the next part he looked up again: “And you don’t seem to be much of a drinker either, huh?” If our Golden Boy had not really been quite drunk, he might have noticed the vulnerability in Draco’s eyes. But in his current state he just managed to nod when Draco offered him some water and later on did not resist the offered couch to crush on for the night. It had been a long day form him and a lot of things had changed. Maybe he should apologize to Draco for kissing him, he thought right before he fell asleep. ‘Although, isn’t it weird to apologize for something I liked?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it is time to show Draco's perspective at this point of the story, so keep an eye open in the next few days for a Fic titled "Draco Malfoy has a broken heart" ;)


	5. Chapter four: He is obsessed with his looks - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is only the first part of the chapter but I did not want you guys to have to wait forever. I am very busily working on this chapter as well as a very fluffy Christmas special, therefore I can only present you the first part of chapter 4 but I will do my best to finish the second part before Christmas ;)

# Chapter four: He is obsessed with his looks

Waking up without your glasses in a different place than your own home is a strange experience, even if you are used to it. It is even worse when you are hung over. You are confused as where exactly you are, how you got there and what actually has happened. Your mouth feels kind of gross, your head hurts, the lights are too bright and everything smells wrong. If you now imagine how scary this would be if it was your first time ever waking up at someone else’s place after having one drink to many you can imagine how frightened Harry felt the day after.

As soon as he managed to open his eyes the burning light that came through the dimmed windows stung in his face and he was in panic. This was definitely not his place. His couch did not smell like new furniture or pinewood and his cushions were not white at all. Also, his blankets all were at least twenty years old and more cosy than stylish. The one covering his legs was dark grey and felt as if it was expensive fabric that had to be handwashed only. Furthermore, he could hear the faint sound of a shower. When he was at home, he was alone. There was no one who would use his bathroom.

In order to see better he reached for his glasses to clean the lenses with his sleeve but there was nothing in his face. He furled his eyebrows. He did not remember putting his glasses down, that was something he never did when he slept somewhere else than his own home or the Burrow. Why would he do it now?

Sitting up he tried to remember where he was and why his glasses were missing. Oh right, he went out with the Greengrass sisters and Draco. To that club. He was drinking quite a lot of those fancy pinkish drinks he would have never dared to order by himself as the definitely looked very gay. There was kissing as well. Two blokes in the corner, Astoria. They were dancing. He never danced. Oh, and he was kissing another man. As far as he could remember, he did not hate it. And then there was Draco in his button down with the tight pants. Harry wondered if he could also pull off such a look. Draco with the pink hair. Draco smelling like sandalwood and spices. Draco whom he had drunkenly kissed. 

All over sudden Harry had to sit up immediately. ‘Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!’ What by Merlin and Salazar had he done? He knew very little about being friends with a gay man but running around and kissing them without their permission was certainly something you should not do. His first instinct was to grab his glasses as soon as he found them and run home as long as everybody was still asleep. But where were those darn things anyways?

The shower stopped and Harry’s panic rose to a whole new level. He almost fell on his face while trying to untangle his feet from the soft blanket. Where were his glasses? He was unquestionably not ready to face someone without them! To his very surprise they had been neatly put on the table next to him together with a huge glass of water and something that seemed to be a hangover potion. Eagerly, he grabbed his glasses as well as the water and jugged it down.

Taking in a deep breath and finally able to see clear again, he took a look around. This was Draco’s living room. He was at the apartment. Someone had brought him here last night. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Maybe Draco was not mad at him.

Another noise grabbed his attention. It was one of the bedroom doors. With an annoyed grunt a very dishevelled Astoria slurped into the room, a giant bottle of water in her hand. Wearing a gigantic shirt and some pink shorts she flung herself onto the side of the couch Harry had just lifted his feet from and gave away a sound of sheer discomfort, eying the potion’s bottle.

“I would not drink that before you have something in your stomach. That stuff can really twist your guts,” she murmured while pushing her feet under Harry’s blanket. With a dramatic gesture she leaned back onto the cushions and declared: “I would literarily kill for a slice of cheese pizza right now. Does your phone still have battery?”

She opened the one eye that was not currently covered by her own hand and looked at Harry. In that moment he wondered where his phone was. Looking around the room he spotted it carefully plugged in next to the telly. It took him ages to get up from the couch and to his device even though it were merely a few feet. However, this had felt like the hardest thing ever. As soon as he managed to crawl back to the couch, Astoria grabbed the phone and searched for a pizza delivery service. She did not even bother to ask what he wanted, but simply ordered what looked like a ton of food. 

Meanwhile the bathroom door opened and Harry could hear footsteps once again. This time it was Draco who made his way to the couch, hair still damp, rubbing his face with a towel. He also was wearing comfortable clothes, something Harry would have never imagined him in. It was a plain white shirt and some joggers hanging loose around his waist and still Draco managed to look stylish. Not that Harry dared to look for too long. He was way too embarrassed because of what he had done the night before and therefore starred at the black screen of the telly on the opposite wall. 

But it did not seem like Draco was in any mood to talk about what happened last night. Instead he stopped at the opposite side of the couch as Astoria had and made a slow gesture with his hand, implying that Harry should move. Without a word he let himself crush on the couch as well and turned on the telly. All of this happened so naturally that our favourite Gryffindor wondered if it was part of their Sunday routine?

They were watching a sitcom Harry did not know but still had no problem following as the plot was rather light hearted. He noticed Astoria dozing of every so often. Draco also did not really pay attention to what was happening on the screen but rather starred at it blankly. Somehow it was both weird to sit next to each other and not talk and at the same time Harry was eternally grateful to not be forced to discuss the night before right now. His head still hurt and the silly TV-program helped over the silence between them. When Astoria was touching his feet, leaning on them while taking a nap, Draco managed to avoid touching him at all. Harry wondered if the other man was afraid, he had given away the wrong impression and was scared now, he had fallen for him.

Daphne was the last one to join them and she only did so after they heard the doorbell ring. Grunting, Draco got up again and managed to somehow get the door. Finally, food. Having a ton of cheesy stuff in his stomach helped Harry to think clearly once again. Obviously, it had been Draco who brought him here, put the glass, the potion and his glasses on the table and had his phone plugged in. That was a lot of nice gestures. Was that a common thing Draco did for all of the guys he met in clubs?

Automatically, Harry scolded himself. Of course, Draco’s ‘guests’ would normally not stay on his couch but rather in his bed. Thinking back, he noticed that Draco did not really seem to be the guy to kiss and tell. In fact, the other man had not mentioned any detail about his current dating life. But maybe that was just normal. He reached for the hang over potion, took a long sip and leaned back onto the couch, letting the slight drowsiness carry him back to sleep.

When he woke up again the afternoon most certainly had turned into early evening. Daphne was having her second serving of cheese pizza and Astoria was vast asleep. Draco was the only one halfway paying attention to the telly where some heavily tattooed teenagers obviously were hunting monsters while suffering under substantial and love crises. Interesting choice. He carefully stretched a bit and shrugged the blanket from his feet, ready to get up. Draco turned to him and rose an eyebrow. “Everything ok?”

Harry managed to nod and simply replied: “Yeah, but I think I should better head home.” 

Draco insisted on bringing him to the door and when they said goodbye our favourite Gryffindor finally managed to make his house proud and stumble an apology for yesterday. The pink haired man came up with his crooked smile and simply said “Everything was perfectly fine, you enjoyed yourself but next time ask before you kiss someone, ok?” while closing the door behind a very confused Harry who tried to not overthink what he had just heard. Is was not that Draco had told him to never do it again but just to ask next time.

He still thought about that when he touched himself in the shower that evening. Something which he did not have felt the desire to for a long time. Of course, it was the hang over and the sensation of kissing a bloke but his thought tended to include a hint of pink hair.

~

From that very evening on Harry became a constant member of the party and was normally not even invited to join them as they all would simply assume he was coming with them anyways. He had been afraid that things between him and Draco might have become weird after the kiss but no such thing did happen. Harry refrained from doing so again and Draco was his usual flirty self towards him, always making sure, he still had something to drink and was feeling alright. 

Dancing on the other hand was Astoria’s domain. As soon as the music started to resemble anything she might like in the slightest way she was already on her way onto the dance floor, happily pulling Harry with her. It seemed to him as if she was more than glad to finally have someone who was willing to dance with her.

Which left Daphne, the one Harry had met last. She was all in all not too different to her sister but instead of dancing she obviously preferred doing shots and playing any kind of bar game be it cards, darts or especially table soccer. Fortunately, she was not as talkative as her sister which always gave Harry the possibility to flee towards her when drunk Astoria would not stop talking. Like in the night a few weeks later when the latter would not stop talking about how this and that would look cute on this and that person.

Harry, who got a hang on how much of the sugary cocktail stuff was good for him pretty soon decided it was time to take a break from little Miss Dancing Queen and sit next to Astoria. She was casually nipping on her beer when he joined her. Quickly she drew his attention towards the other end of the bar where Draco was having a rather lively conversation with a tall brown-haired guy who – Harry had to admit that being only the tiniest bit envious – looked stunning with his scruffy chin and the tight shirt. The bloke was obviously flirting with Draco who neither seemed to mind it nor react positively towards the efforts.

“I don’t get it,” Daphne shrugged, “there were times Draco would have dragged this cute guy out of the club and snogged him senseless half an hour ago. But since we came back to London, I never saw him taking anyone home and that one,” She pointed at the man with her pint, “is definitely his type. The hell, he even let Astoria move in permanently. Not even I would do that and she is my bloody sister!”

With that she turned towards Harry now facing him.

“And then there is you. He behaves like a freaking saint around you and not once did he try to get into your pants. I don’t get him anymore.”

~

Half an hour later Harry was back at their table, staring at the dance floor and still wondering about what Daphne had told him before. Did he somehow force Draco to change his habits? Was it because of him the other man did not dare to behave naturally? He saw the other man approaching the table and tried his best to come up with a witty conversation starter but all he managed was: “Where did you leave the guy you were talking to?”

With a raised eyebrow Draco sat in the chair next to him.

“You mean Clive? I do not know. Somewhere around. Why, do you want to meet him?

Harry turned towards the other man, starring at him in frustration.

“Why didn’t you two hook up? Isn’t he exactly your type?”

Now it was Draco’s time to blankly stare at the other man unable to react in any other manner. He pulled his eyebrows so far together that they almost met at the top of his head and pushed back his chin making him look rather stupid. This was clearly not a direction he suspected the conversation to go at all.

“Excuse me Potter, since when are you responsible for my hook-ups? I can take care of that very well on my own thank you very much!”

“Well, why did you not do it then for the last few weeks? Because I stayed on your couch? Is it really that important to you what I think about you?”

Harry’s anger and confusion that had built up in the last half an hour together with the fear of being a burden really wanted to get out, he was trying his best to provoke a fight but Draco’s next response ended the topic immediately. 

“Yes, it is,” he simply said, taking another sip from his drink and starring in the opposite direction. And with that their fight was over and Harry decided that from now on he should maybe better mind his own business. If Draco preferred to spent his evenings going out with friends that was totally fine to him. At this very moment he was not capable of admitting his heart had skipped a bit at the thought of him being important in the other man’s life.

~

Often Harry had asked himself why nobody was interfering with his looks. Whenever they went out together, he felt more than underdressed. It was not that he actually cared about his looks, but he was rather insecure if the others were not bothered by how unstylish he was. For a while he used to wear the one chic button down Hermione got him a year ago. Astoria noticed that pretty soon and asked him whether he only owned one good shirt. When he nodded feeling a bit ashamed, she was all about dragging him shopping and getting him a whole make-over – if he wanted to, of course.

It was Draco who interfered. Watching the whole discussion and immediately recognizing Harry’s discomfort he discouraged her very effectively:

“Well, I do not think someone with your questionable taste offers the right amount of fashion sense to accompany dear Harry on a journey to a new identity.”

She frowned and crossed her arms, pulling together her eyebrows furiously. Her voice sounded a bit offended even though her answer was challenging.

“Well then, you should take him out shopping, Mr. Super-Stylish-Extravaganza! See how you can save that!”

Harry started feeling quite bad for himself. Were his looks really that much of a disaster that he needed saving? With a slowly raised eyebrow Draco looked at him and their eyes met. He could have sworn there was a mischievous spark in them, as if the other man knew something she did not see.

“I think dear Harry looks just fine exactly as he is,” Draco explained without looking away.

Later, Harry explained to himself that it was the fact he got such a compliment from another man – a very fashionable one – that made his heart skip a bit. It had nothing to do with the fact that it came from a very pink haired man with very grey eyes and a very nice smile.


	6. Chapter four: He is obsessed with his looks - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, holidays make me feel lazy. Also I had to catch up on so many things. But as soon as I will be back at work I promise to use every single train ride to continue writing. Until then enjoy this chapter.

Admitting something is very hard. For example, being wrong. Harry hated admitting that he was wrong, especially towards Hermione. To be fair, she was not good at winning arguments either! Admitting you are afraid of something is even harder. But Harry had managed to even do that a dozen times when talking to Draco. Admitting to yourself that you have a crush on someone you would have never expected turned out to be the hardest thing out of the three for him.

Finally, it is time for us to return to where we started our journey from. Remember the awful article about dear Draco being undatable and everything. Well, around half a year after the breakup of Harry and Ginny, around three months after the official breakup and two months and 16 days after having the first civil conversation with Draco Malfoy Harry Potter was sitting on his very couch, suffering under a hangover from the night before and trying not to stare at the other man because his heart was still racing from when Draco had smirked at him. Because the little voice in Harry’s head told him he in fact really, really wanted to kiss the pink haired man right now, touch the messy hair, smell the fantastic scent of him again. Still, Harry was not sure about his sexuality, even though being gay was rather likely. What his consciousness had realized without a doubt was that he was more than simply attracted to Draco.

Draco, who was loud and colourful and out and extravagant and seeking attention and everything Harry had avoided to be. Draco, who tried his best to make Harry feel welcome, who had changed so much over the years, who held a confidence Harry was envious about deep down. Draco, who flirted with him all the time, who told him to ask before he kissed him again. Draco, who did not tell Harry off for kissing him. Draco, who had been through the same war as he, who had also survived and searched for a new identity. Draco, who had become a close friend and who always joked around with him but never made clear if he could even imagine being more than friends.

Draco, who had a lot of experience. In bed. With men. Probably a lot of them.

And suddenly all the confidence Harry had worked so hard on vanished in mere seconds. Draco was more than ordinary, a very handsome man putting much effort into his appearance whilst he himself was just plain and boring. He was basically a virgin when it came to partying, society and being gay. There was absolutely nothing he had to offer someone like Draco except for his name and he very well knew that Draco hated him for his name and the fame connected to it. Or at least he had done so for a long time.

Also, Harry was not really attractive in any kind of way. His face was boring, his eyes were of a solid green colour, the hair a giant mess, lips always chapped no matter what he did to them. And then there was the lightning bolt scar on his forehead which had become even more visible now that he had sort of a tan. His skin colour also was nothing to be exited about. Even though he was not that ashy anymore, his skin did not have this luxurious bronze undertone to it he would have loved to have. His upper body was not that muscular or anything despite all training efforts, his knees still looked weird and his legs were quite hairy. He was not sure if a gay man was suspected to trim his hair. He was really not that special. Not like that beautiful Clive guy.

In the past few weeks Harry had taken the chance to compare his colleagues when they were under the shower together to see if he found any of them attractive. Which he basically did not except for that one lean blond guy who had transferred to the London quarter just a while ago. He was rather cute – maybe because he resembled Draco a bit. Anyways, all those men were taller than him, broader and better equipped.

Being new to idea of being into blokes was one thing. Confronting yourself with the question of what would possibly be considered attractive about you quite another.

Here he was, standing in front of his bedroom mirror making stupid faces, starring at himself, uncertain of what to think about that weird guy looking back. Harry tried to imitate the half-smile Draco prominently featured whenever he was flirty and failed terribly. He rather looked like a crazy person trying to act normal than anyone actually seducing someone. How did Draco pull this off?

Giving up on that particular move he instead practiced raising a single eyebrow to look witty, which he also could not manage to do. He really put force into the muscles on his forehead but it did not help, his stupid bushy eyebrows refused to move one by itself and rather stick together like a giant caterpillar. Maybe he should thin out his brows to soften his face. The weary hands touched his own chin, pushing the stubbles forward while he pulled a face. A beard could help cover up his strong chin and the small chip in it. Or was a harsh jawline considered attractive in men? Critically he moved his face from one side to another pushing his lips around.

Were his lips supposed to be so thin? His upper lip was almost invisible and the bottom one not really any taller. Those lips in the mirror did not really scream “kiss me”, did they? They looked scratchy and dry and brittle. He should definitely work on that if he ever wanted to kiss Draco again. Rubbing the stubbles on his cheeks again he focused his gaze on his hair.

The awfully messy black strands did whatever they liked on his head as they had always done. There was no use trying to get them in any kind of shape, he knew that from experience. It was his hair structure which simply refused to obey the very basic laws of physics. Pressing them down flat on his head he wondered if maybe he could pull of a drastic cut, let’s say only a quarter of an inch left. But wouldn’t that make him smaller than he already was?

Harry Potter had never been the tallest guy, neither in his class nor in the Quidditch team. Even Ginny was only an inch smaller than himself which forced her to always wear flats when they were out together. Until today he had never considered his height an actual problem but when he thought about Draco and how much the other man towered him, he suddenly felt insecure. Maybe the beautiful pink haired was not into smaller men at all. Was there any hex to make him grow a foot?

Shaking his head Harry tried to get rid of that thought. He would neither cut his hair nor change his height, that would be to drastic. Pressing his lips together he instead focused on his torso, lifting his shirt a bit to reveal his stomach. By no means could he be considered fat or overweight. The skin stretched over flat muscles and showed of his defined abdomen. He could be confident about that if it were nor for the sheer lack of any signs of a six pack. He could work on that.

Turning around in the mirror his next sceptical thoughts concerned his buttocks. Those old jeans he kept wearing all the time, did they do anything for his behind? Was there anything worth doing something for? What kind of butt did other man consider attractive anyway?

Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head. What the hell was he thinking. Did the conclusion that he might be having a crush on Draco really have to result in him questioning everything about his body? He breathed out loudly. There was only one person clear enough in their mind to help him stop overthinking.

~

Sitting in the soft afternoon light that hit the armchair just right, a steaming hot cup of tea in his two hands and a squeaking toddler at his feet playing with miniature versions of cooking supply already helped a lot. The world had not suddenly started spinning around him feeling more or less attractive or being unsure about his looks. Since the Triwizarding Ball back in grade four had he not waisted this amount of thoughts on his looks. I mean, how could he? A war had happened after that year. There certainly were other things on Harry’s mind back then.

But all this was in the past now. The Wizarding world was finally at peace – as much as it could ever be. Harry had finished his Auror training without having to face off another Dark Lord or anyone equally evil, just some rogue dark mages and witches who still practiced the Dark Arts. They were however shattered across all of Great Britain and not connected to Voldemort at all.

Life definitely had changed for all of them after the Great War. They had all changed. Especially Hermione – well in certain ways. Opposite of him the woman who was considered to be the brightest witch of her generation and once had nothing else in her mind than studying and surpassing her own goals was currently sitting on the floor and trying to convince a one year old that is was alright to pass her the toy broccoli. She failed miserably. Patting baby Hugo on his head she returned her attention towards Harry.

“You know, there had been several studies – Muggle as well as Wizarding – on what makes people attractive in general. I never considered you were interested in that kind of research,” she carefully mentioned, blowing some lose strands of her bushy hair out of her eyes. Pregnancy, Harry had to admit, had made Hermione prettier than she had ever been. She had gained a few pounds which she never had tried to get rid of again and it suited her very well. Her face had lost the sharp edges and her general expression had gotten much softer in the year Hugo was already part of their little family.

Nobody in the whole Weasley tribe had even wondered when after about half a year she had announced to start working again. Nobody in the Ministry even dared to say a word against her returning to work part time or the fact that sometimes she would bring Hugo with her. You did not mess with the second in command in the Department of International Magical Cooporation. At the age of 23 Hermione had already outstripped every expectation the Wizarding World could have of her and she was still going strong. The whispers of her soon becoming the next Minister of Magic grew louder ever day but she had already emphasized she would not commit to such a time-consuming job now. Now it was time to have a family.

Harry had always wondered what exactly had drawn Hermione towards Ron in the first place. But now as they had gotten married shortly before baby Hugo was born (and only because pregnancy hormones had made Hermione finally give in to Ron’s pleading to become his wife she had explained later, dreamingly petting her wedding bouquet) and were still going strong as a couple he started to finally understand. Their whole living room told their story.

It was crowded with books, all of them neatly arranged next to children’s toys made by hand. The whole furniture was comfortable and old, yet well put together. On the table books about raising children, the history of potions brewing in Europe and magazines on Quidditch results could be found and the soft humming of Ron from the kitchen was clearly audible. Everything logical Hermione brought into their relationship was cherished with a lovely gesture from Ron. There were tons of pictures of the happy couple together with tiny gifts his best friend had given to his wife over the years as well as snippets of every newspaper article featuring her, carelessly pinned to the wall by a more than proud husband.

Harry sat up in his chair a bit to look at Hermione who was taking a careful sip from her tea and still watching him, waiting for a response. He had never been able to fool her. Maybe it was a bit early to admit something so new to him but he had already started and over the years he had learnt that it often turned out to be helpful to have a partner in crime.

“I think I am not interested in girl, you know, and now I was wondering what guys think is attractive.”

She smiled at him softly but he could sense how pleased she was with herself by the way her eyes had started to glitter. This witch somehow always seemed to be able to look right through him. Once again, she took him by surprise with one single, innocent question: “Draco, hm?”

Harry clenched his shoulders together just for a moment before deciding to not even try and deny what was so obvious to her. Instead he ruffled through his hair and grinned at her sheepishly, looking at her over his glasses.

“Is it really that apparent?”, he asked in a quiet voice, making sure Ron would not overhear them by accident. There would be a place and time when he felt it was right to inform his best friend about his sexual preferences but today was not that day.

She gave him a mixture of her “know-it-all” smile and a reassuring expression to validate the obviousness for her. Carefully caressing her cup of tea while glimpsing at little Hugo from the corner of her eyes she then explained: “Well, you have certainly spent a lot of time together in the last few months as well as whenever I see you, you have to tell me something amazing Draco did.”

“But I always tell other people how proud I am of my friends!” he insisted which was met by a knowing smile.

“But not like you do with Draco. You should see yourself. Your eyes get dreamy and you grin like a moron.”

“My eyes do not get dreamy! And you make it sound as if I was in love with him! This might just be a phase! I mean, he is the first gay guy I really spent time with.

She looked at him critically, taking in a deep breath. Her eyebrows almost met as if she was really having a hard time trying to find the right words.

“Harry, if it is just a crush, why are you here? And if it could be more you should definitely make up you mind about it. Getting closer to Draco will for sure cost a lot of effort and won’t be easy. Before you overthink what he might find attractive about you, find out what you like about him and how deep this feelings go.”

After that she stood up to refill theirs mugs, letting Harry once again alone with his thoughts. What did he want from Draco? Did he want anything at all or was it a purely physical thing? He most certainly needed to find out even though it was hard to not be distracted by the other man’s appearance.

~

The universe decided to give him a more than unusual chance to do so the next weekend. When you think about our favourite Slytherin on the beach, curing his hangover in luxurious loungers, drinking fresh fruit juices and from time to time cool down in the ocean you are not wrong. This was exactly what the group of four was doing after a rather extravagant night of partying, knowing they somehow had to get fit until the very same night to attend the annual birthday party of their favourite club.

Astoria and Daphne were both enjoying the sun shining on their oily legs, wearing giant sunglasses and sipping from exotic drinks. Both of them were wearing swim suits so fancy they for sure were designer. Astoria had stuck to a rather cute design with a lot of flowers at the bottom and frill on top whereas her sister’s bikini was more on the practical side, a deep blue triangle top and a rather sporty bottom. The colour contrasted nicely with her bright hair and rather light skin as well as her right arm. It was the first time Harry had ever gotten the chance to look at her Tattoos. There were several, a stylized sunrise in a cameo, a flower next to it, a tiny rat holding a red suitcase on the back of her upper arm and of course her Dark Mark with a neat arrangement of red circular forms in the background.

“That’s the Flower of Life,” she had explained after noticing his look, carefully applying sunscreen to every tattoo except the skull and the snake. Her arm also featured the banner with _Ego faciem meam metus _on it, Harry noticed. Maybe they all had it.

“What does the Flower of Life stand for?”, he dared to ask. She smiled at him proudly and gave away just one word for an answer: “Protection” She then lay back in her seat and seemed to doze of again, still wet from the water she had just returned from. Both Greengrass sisters seemed to enjoy the heat as much as he did. The had used a Portkey to this beautiful beach somewhere in Asia in the middle of the night, straight after coming home and Harry was more than glad Daphne had informed him before hand to bring a pair of bathing trunks with him. Instead of sleeping in their apartment they wanted to sober up her.

Which three people enjoyed quite a lot. Draco however not so much.

He had pushed his chair out of the sun and away from them under a bunch of trees and refused to even go near the water. His hair was a messy disaster and his whole body seemed to be covered in a thick layer of sunscreen, making it impossible for Harry to find out how the tattoos on both his arms as well as on his left calf and his right thigh looked like. There were only three things Harry was certain of:

One, all of Draco’s tattoos were done in black and white. Two, there were more hiding behind the white shirt the other man refused to take of because he was not willing to “let the sun burn away my delicate skin so you terrible people can make fun of me later on. And now leave me alone in my demise!” Three, even though Draco looked rather pitiful with the white sunscreen covering his whole face and bare skin and he seemed to hate the mere thought of touching sand or salt water, which made him appear as more of a whiny baby than his usual elegance, Harry could not stop thinking about how cute he was with all that special wishes. Even unpolished and in anything else than his best shape he found the other man utterly handsome, not because of his appearance but because Draco well was Draco.


	7. Chapter five: He is very conservative

# Chapter five: He is very conservative 

“If you see him like this you really have to wonder how he ever stood a chance at picking someone up,” Daphne carelessly mentioned, watching Draco from above her sunglasses. He was currently trying to get into a comfortable position without exposing any part of his skin to the sunlight. It was a struggle.

Although Harry had already suggested Draco was not unfamiliar to hooking up with guys, the actual notion of the pink haired man doing so still was uncomfortable for him. Really trying not to sigh audibly he turned his attention away from the pale mass of limbs and sunscreen and focused on the two girls. Friends talked about their friend’s sex life. This was totally normal and as far as it concerned Draco and him, they were no more than friends.

“Well, maybe it is not actually important to him,” he suggested innocently. This cute little remark lead to a chain of events starting with Astoria literally spitting out the juice she was currently sipping from while rapidly getting into a sitting position. Daphne turned her head so quickly in disbelief you could indeed hear her sore muscles ache with pain and she had to hold her head whilst trying not to laugh at her sister who had turned another stage of pale – even compared to Draco – and looked like she was very close to vomiting because of the way to quick movement. Both stared at Harry unblinking which lead to his cheeks burning hot with shame and embarrassment. Even Draco in the distance who had tried his hardest to give the impression of someone sleeping deeply while having a grudge against his so-called friends rose his head nosily. This obviously had been a very stupid remark.

It was Daphne who got her countenance back together first and managed to grin in Draco’s direction, making it clear they were talking about him right now. A raised eyebrow was the only answer she got but Harry noted in his mind that in fact the other man seemed to be rather curious.

“Oh dear, innocent Harry. For Draco the Night Life is ‘nothing more than a giant buffet of chances to flirt and hook up with beautiful strangers to fall in love for only one night to then become a distant memory.’” From the concentrated look on her face he could tell that she actually seemed to be quoting someone. Had Draco really said such a thing at any time, he wondered. Of course, Harry had noticed the continuous attempts at flirting but all of them were directed onto him and no one else. Was he currently functioning as a wild card for the other man who tried so hard to be his friend and maybe had changed his behaviour patterns because of that? Was flirting with Harry Draco’s way of avoiding flirting with anyone else? The insecurity concerning the other man came straight back and once again our favourite Gryffindor had a hard time remembering what Hermione had just told him. He needed to take his time and find out whether he really was interested in Draco as a person before starting to overthink every move the other might make or not.

Then and only then would it be reasonable to even waste some time questioning himself if Draco might be interested and why.

~

Sleeping in the warm Asian sun indeed was a wonderful cure for hangovers he had noticed a few hours later when they had made their way back to way to cold and nippy London. Harry was still kind of confused on what time it actually was as they had ported to the beach at around 4 am and spend a whole day there even if it still was bright day when they came back to England. All this ‘seven hours ahead’ and back math thing hurt his head right now. They had spent about eight hours in total at the beach, having lunch, sleeping, swimming and three of them enjoying the warm sun so when they came back it was only noon at home.

Harry would have loved to discover some of the secrets this other country might hold or even find the courage to ask where exactly they had been but somehow, he did not dare. The other three seemed to be familiar with so many exotic places he felt stupid. Luckily, he was refreshed enough to escape the trio for a while to not be forced to think about a certain pink haired man and the possibilities of liking him as in _liking_ liking.

Teddy was currently kneeling in front of a table on the floor, a bright green crayon in his hand and a very proud smile lingering on his face. For the last twenty minutes or so he had been trying to paint Astoria, listening to Harry’s description, asking mindful questions on how long exactly her hair was, what colour her eyes had, how her nose looked like and all in order to do a precise composite sketch so he would recognise her when they finally met. Harry had refused to show him any pictures in order to protect their Glamour secret (and because of the binding contract hindering him to reveal Draco’s secret – as if he even had considered such a shameless thing!) therefore young Teddy Lupin had no other chance as to paint the girl of his dreams.

The cute thing about being five years old is that you can fall utterly in love with the concept of somebody you have never actually met. For him Astoria was this perfect girl with long wavy hair and all those colourful clothes who always smiled and would be the perfect playdate for a rainy afternoon at home. He had even told Harry he would share his secret cookie stash with Astoria if she wanted to swing by. Of course, not the chocolate ones but she could have the oatmeal cookies if she wanted too. Even innocent love has its borders and for Teddy Lupin those were sharing anything chocolate!

The result of his painting by the way was definitely not a photorealistic drawing (we are talking about a five-year-old boy in love!) but a really cute picture of stick man Teddy holding hands with a fairy. She was a bit taller than him as “she is a grown-up Harry and I like large girls; they can reach the top shelf with the candy!” Her hair was very long and ended in something that resembled snake heads. Teddy loved snakes. The outfit was very colourful as she was wearing bright orange tights, a pink fluffy skirt and a blue top which showed her navel. Teddy was very proud of his work and Harry indeed wondered if Astoria would wear this outfit.

There was only one way to find out and his godson had already been bagging him to send her a picture of his masterpiece, needing to know if she approved of his fashion choices. This was not a test if Teddy had nailed her outfit but rather him wanting to know if she understood his concept of how to dress. Harry ruffled through the little boy’s hair after having taken the picture and added a “_Teddy created an outfit for you_” below before sending.

He did not expect an answer as they would see each other again in only a few hours but little did Harry know about how addicted Astoria was to texting. It took less than a minute before his phone vibrated the first time. Another time. And again. Again.

_14:23: By Merlin, how cute is this? Give the designer my compliments, I love it, especially the poufy skirt!_

_14:23: I don’t think anyone has ever designed clothes especially for me! I could kiss Teddy right now!_

_14:24: I really, really want to wear this tonight!_

_14:24: Any chance he can sow as well?_

As soon as little Teddy had heard the phone ring, he brought it to his godfather, eager to know what the girl of his dreams had written. It was only logical for the boy to assume it would be her writing. I mean, except for Hermione sometimes checking in on him and Arthur Weasley forwarding strange videos he assumed to be funny Astoria was the only one frequently texting Harry. While listening to the first message Teddy grinned all over his face, the second one however made him pull a face.

“Uaaaah, no kisses, I don’t wanna do kisses. Those are for girls!”

Harry chuckled and ruffled through his godson’s hear one again. They were still purple and he suddenly had to think about Draco. How interesting that both had decided to go with a colour on the red spectrum. He only knew about spectrums and stuff because Astoria had told him, being quite a fashion critic herself. Maybe it was reasonable Teddy had chosen a similar colour as he and Draco were related. Harry wondered if those two would get along and if Draco was also so disgusted by the thought of kissing girls.

“Teddy, if you like a girl you will also like kissing her,” he explained to the boy who was shaking his head wildly and sticking out his tongue. Well, maybe it would still take quite a while before Teddy would like kissing.

“No! But we could hold hands. But only once! What else did she write?”

Harry read out the rest of the messages while raising an eyebrow as he watched Teddy busily browsing through the closest drawers, obviously searching for something.

“What’cha looking for?”

“Glue and fabric! And scissors but you have to get them; I am not allowed to. We have to make the dress for Astoria now so everybody knows she is my girlfriend!”, Teddy explained with an earnest expression on his face, the one only five-year-olds could have while explaining absolutely obvious things to adults who were so silly because they did not get it.

_14:37: Just to let you know thanks to you I now will spend the rest of my afternoon explaining a lovesick boy that he can’t simply glue together a dress for his girlfriend. By the way you are his girlfriend now!_

Harry smirked at his godson. Good, he wished dating was this easy, just ask someone if they like your vision of themselves and as soon as they agree they automatically become your significant other. He wondered if Draco would like the idea of himself as Harry saw him. Good looking, charming but a git, something between elegant and absolutely careless, funny and sarcastic, terrifyingly handsome but in a very unique way and quite a mystery. What did he actually know about Draco? About how he really grew up, what changed him so much over the past years, why he went public with being queer but not with his actual looks. The longer he thought about it the clearer it became: Liking Draco Malfoy did not automatically include knowing a lot about him.

‘Weird’, Harry thought to himself, ‘in the beginning he used to talk so much about himself, trying to impress me but he stopped that. Not the impressing but the talking.’ Did Draco consider his deeds done? Or was it maybe because our favourite Gryffindor essentially never gave away anything about himself nor asked about details when being told some information. He definitely had to step up his game if he wanted to get closer to Draco. As soon as he had decided **if** he actually even wanted that.

But for now, he had to deal with another very special spouse of the Black family who demanded his full attention while roaming through his grandmother’s drawers in order to locate the perfect piece of fabric. Harry wondered – not for the first time – if this attention seeking thing was a character trait which ran in the family.

~

For the very first time in his life Harry James Potter had willingly decided to dress up to go out. Is was not the Ministry nor his friends telling him to put on some nice clothes but his very own desire to look good (and maybe impress one particular other male). He went with nothing too bold but already something way out of his comfort zone. The black jeans were tighter than he was used to wear them which did not mean they clung to his skin at all or anything like that, they simply gave away the idea that in fact Harry Potter had a rather decent bum. At least he thought so but let’s not start on that matter again. He had paired the pants with a form fitting black and white button up featuring a choker neckline which he hoped would make him seem taller.

This particular design had been featured in the cringy teenage show the trio seemed to love, although the character Harry had stolen it from definitely was more like Draco. Charismatic, outgoing, extravagant. But he had still fallen for the shy black-haired guy with “absolutely no fashion sense” as Draco had declared. Harry might have considered this as proof he also had a chance with the other man had the “normal” telly-guy not been tall, lean, handsome and covered in tattoos. Which he was neither of.

Unsecure about himself and already reconsidering the idea of impressing Draco by dressing up he was nervously playing with his choker when he finally rang the door. Luckily for him it was Daphne who got the door, gave him a short look and nodded in agreement.

“You are definitely dressed better than my sister,” she casually explained while clearly meaning it as half a compliment for him, half an insult on her. Still, she smiled when she looked at him and gave him a silent thumbs up when Astoria dramatically slide towards the door and gave away a theatrical “Ohhhhhh”. But to be honest, her outfit was more of a surprise than his own. He could not stop himself from grinning when he saw her.

Indeed, the brunette was wearing a blue shimmering top leaving her navel free, combined with a pink tutu and very bright very orange tights. She had even gone a step further and added a red belt which somehow managed to pull the outfit together. Her hair was curled at the ends to make it resemble snakes- with a lot of fantasy of course.

“Harry at least gets it”, she explained to her sister while winking at him conspicuously. After hugging him – a mannerism he had taken a while to get used to as way of greeting – she whispered in his ear: “Do you think my little boyfriend would like that?”

He grinned at her and nodded while she approvingly pulled on his shirt, checking the fit and assuring him he actually looked great. He also felt great. Dressing good somehow raised his confidence. For once he did not feel lost in a room and knew he would not mind if anyone gave him their full attention. Today he knew he looked fine and not weird or pitiful. He looked like a version of himself that actually knew what he wanted even though he more considered this a test run of this new Harry to see if he liked it.

Draco obviously did so. Meeting them in the living room his hair still a bit wet and undone he took quite a while looking up and down Harry’s outfit, something the latter would have been embarrassed about a few weeks ago but he had gotten used to Draco’s judgemental stare when it came to fashion and somehow even felt proud because this was the very first time he had ever gotten one of those. This maybe was the greatest validation of all.

Astoria tugged at his sleeve and nodded towards her cell she was holding above them.

“Picture time”, she announced and put an arm around Harry. Daphne stepped closer as well, grinning into the camera. Draco shook his head but did not refused even though he stayed in the background. Harry had always wondered why all three of them were so obsessed with taking pictures but then he remembered the end of his first year in Hogwarts when Hagrid had given him the photo album and how much he had treasured it, still holding it high up until today. Sometime pictures help making a moment last a bit.

Astoria took about 10 pictures from different angles. In some they looked serious, in some they pulled faces but in all of them Harry definitely felt good. Today was a good day to take pictures and is was a welcome change to take pictures together with friends instead of having them taken by reporters on formal events, even though he was sure Draco would do an amazing job as well. He had proven that many times for sure. And for a very brief moment pictures of himself at the Ministry Ball flashed before our favourite Gryffindor’s inner eye. He together with Draco, posing for the cameras. Not the real Draco here but the platinum blonde version with the perfect suit designed to impress other people. They would look good together and back at home Draco would put off his glamour and they would look even better, feeling cosy around each other, not needing to pretend they were someone they were not.

Harry could feel the heat raising in his cheeks. Somehow, he loved the idea of him and Draco being a strong power couple out there for the world and having a secret together at home. He liked the idea of spending lazy days with the other man as well as his company would make official dates bearable or even enjoyable. He liked the idea of having more than a friendship with Draco. By Merlin, he could almost hear his snarking comments to the press, the slightly arrogant but witty comments as well as he could feel his hand in his hair, strong fingers touching, him gripping him…

With a shake of his head he returned back to reality but not without having to think about Hermione. If he later told her about his thoughts, she would definitely smile at him knowingly and say something like “I think you have your answer”. And maybe she would be right. Maybe it was as simple as that. He wanted Draco. Not purely physically (which he did as well, there was no need to even question that, believe me) but also emotionally. He wanted intimate conversations, playful flirting, lazy days, busy days. Harry sighted without a sound. Of all people – men to be more precise – he wanted to be with this one more than he ever wanted anyone else. If only he knew how Draco felt.

~

The birthday party was everything Harry had expected it to be. Obviously, he again was totally underdressed. It turned out Astoria’s fashion choice was totally appropriate for the occasion as everyone else looked like walking rainbow flags as well. They were having colourful shots and had conquered the dance floor once again after a rather small amount of time when Harry noticed something different that day. It was not only Draco who got a lot of attention. Of course, he once again looked stunning with a well fitting and obviously expensive pair of grey pants paired with a form fitting shirt, this time with a collar just wide enough to suggest there was more ink in his chest, and a tight black vest over it. Even though having tried to do his very best at preparing himself he still had gotten the faintest sunburn on his cheeks which made him look even more radiant than he already did. If he had not fallen for the other man, he totally would have today, Harry thought to himself.

But still, somehow today it was he himself who got plenty of attention from other men in the club. Two guys had already sent some shots into his direction, the guy across the room was winking at him whenever their gazes met and another man a few years older was currently approaching him, a sincere look in his eyes. He stopped way too close in front of Harry to be comfortable and forced him to step back, away from the dance floor. The other guy was obviously a bit more drunk than himself and had quite obvious intentions.

“Hey there handsome, are you looking for some fun?”, he asked and Harry could smell the alcohol in his breath. The guy was not bad looking but because of the loud music he had shouted his question into Harry’s ear, his lips almost touching the sensitive skin. Once again, he took another step backwards which unfortunately was interpreted as an invitation. Harry could feel the stranger’s hands on his hips, his butt, gripping firmly. For a few seconds he was to shocked to react at all but as soon as he was capable of pushing the guy away, Draco had already stepped close.

“Sorry,” he mumbled just loud enough to be understandable, “but this one is with me.” His tone was very calm and an amused grin was playing around his lips while he quickly raised his eyebrows, looking at Harry. Merlin, Draco was obviously marking his territory and Harry could feel his own Heart in his stomach. Even if this was only to help him get rid off the other guy, he enjoyed it so much. Somehow the other man still did not get it.

To make a point, the pink haired grabbed Harry’s waist and pulled him close enough so he could smell the scent of herbs and something sweet once again. Draco’s smell. Until that very moment Harry had not noticed how much he had missed this distinctive little feature, how he desperately had to get more of this smell, of how the perfume fused with the other man’s very own smell into a fragrance that went from his nose straight to his groin. Unconsciously he had been moving closer, almost nuzzling his head into Draco’s neck. This made the latter turn his head and look at him.

Forgotten was the other man, the loud music, the flickering, bright lights. There was only grey, eyes deep enough for a storm. Curiosity and insecurity fighting with – desire? Draco looked at him as if he wanted this just as much as he did himself, as if the world had stopped spinning for both of them. And Harry knew he had to take this chance right now, he had to take the risk and make it right, crossing borders, entering new territory.

“Can I kiss you?”, he carefully whispered not capable of looking anywhere else than the handsome face. The dark grey eyes now filled with relief and amusement, framed with long, bright lashes, contrasting with the dark brows, the tiny freckles on the straight nose, a full, soft bottom lip, a mouth currently curled up into a feline smile, slightly higher on the right side. The smell became overwhelming and Harry noticed the hand on his hip moving towards his lower back, caressing it slowly but steadily pulling him in closer.

He looked back from the lips towards the eyes and saw how soft they had become before the fluttered shut and he could feel the soft sensation of warm lips on his own, could smell the amazing fragrance, luxurious pink hair brushing over his own cheek, a nice contrast to the cold metal ring touching his own lip. There was a firmness in the touch and at the same time it felt incredibly gentle, teasing, testing. And absolutely perfect.

The world had indeed stopped spinning but now it was turning, turning, turning, gaining speed and in its centre, he stood, overwhelmed by the single most magnificent feeling ever. His skin was burning and his hands were shaking while he was searching for the other body, wanting to touch it. He could get a grip on the vest and clung to it as if he would be drowning any moment, as if the only way to get air was through Draco’s mouth.

Harry closed his eyes and leant into the touch of their lips, pushing his face upwards, trying to get closer to the other body. He could feel his own erection rubbing against his pants and his legs touching Draco’s. Still there was too much space between them and he did the only thing his brain still seemed to be capable of ordering his body to do: He grabbed the soft strands of pink hair at the back of the other man’s head and forced the sinfully lips closer to his own, pushing their mouths open.

And then something clicked. Draco started moving his lips, a curious tongue playfully asking for entrance into his mouth to ravish it only seconds later. There were hands all over his body, searching, needing him. The touch on his back had turned into a strong grip, holding him securely while a long leg was pushing him backwards against a wall. The kiss grew from innocence into quite the opposite and Harry heard himself moan loudly when he could feel Draco pressing hard against his hips, clearly wanting this as much he did.

They were fighting the sweetest most desperate fight, pulling, pushing, needing air but being uncapable of letting go. There was nothing more important than to not lose the physical contact between them. While one hand still played with the pink hair, making sure Draco had no chance to get away, the other had started to wander across the body in front of him, trying to conquer the unknown territory, feeling victorious when he finally managed to get under the shirt and touch naked skin.

With a loud groan Draco managed to break free only to rest his forehead against Harry’s, their lips millimetres apart. “Fuck, you are killing me,” he managed to whisper whilst our favourite Gryffindor tried to catch those lips again with his own, not willing to let go already.

But unfortunately, Draco decided otherwise, pulling away and looking around.

“I think that creepy dude is gone.”

Confusion was written all over Harry’s face and his brain really tried to work again but it still felt very cloudy and was screaming “more, more, more of this!” instead of following Draco’s train of thoughts. When kissing someone could be this great, why were people doing anything else at all? When kissing Draco made the world stop and then accelerate the speed by at least five hundred percent, why did anyone not do it? Why did he do anything other in the world when this was the single best thing. 

And then reality hit back in. There had been this guy hitting at him, getting too close and then there was Draco protecting him and then there was the kiss. Was is possible to kiss someone like that just to make sure other people believed they were here together? Maybe after all Draco was just a brilliant kisser and this meant nothing.

He could feel the heat and euphoria leaving his body, opening space to a cold, heavy weight in his chest. His eyes were searching for the exit, he had to get some fresh air, to get his head free. Suddenly breathing had become quite hard and he decided to go outside without looking at Draco a second time.

But as soon as the cool air of the night, filled with the smell of a thousand cheap perfumes and the stench of cold smoke hit him, he somehow could breath again. What was he thinking? For him all of this was brand new! Every evening was an adventure, every touch world changing, a kiss opening up a whole new universe. Draco had gotten used to this a long time ago. And that was ok because sometimes kissing was nothing more than kissing.

He prepared himself to re-enter the club when he finally realized that someone had been following him. Someone with a very distinctive pink head of hair, currently standing a few feet away, a lit cigarette in his mouth. The long, elegant fingers grabbed the small thing and pushed it away from the lips slowly, watching Harry carefully. Draco did not really smile nor did he not. There was a tiny twitching at the outer corner of his lips but nothing more when he decided to come closer.

Unsure what else to say Harry blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

“I didn’t know you smoked!”

Draco starred at the burning cigarette as if he had only noticed what he was doing just now before once again inhaling the smoke slowly, making sure none of it would hit Harry. Then he pulled his eyebrows together and starred into the sky absently.

“Actually, I gave up smoking when I started tattooing my arm. I decided it would be a waste of money and time if I kept hurting my body with this shit when I was willing to suffer through this pain to create something that would last.”

With this he raised his right arm and gave Harry the chance to look at it closely for the first time. It was covered in fine lines, forming a labyrinth kind of structure. The edges were lighter and the walls became darker the closer they were to his inner lower arm. Where the Dark Mark was. Somehow it had lost almost all of its terror and when Draco turned his arm to enable Harry to inspect it closer up, he could see it as it was. An old scar. Compared to the changes Astoria and Daphne had made on their mark, Draco’s had stayed quite the same. The mark itself was untouched and stood in the centre of the dark labyrinth. Below it Harry could read the now familiar banner.

“_Ego faciem meam metus_”, Draco mumbled to himself, following Harry’s gaze with his eyes, “I will face my fears. A promise to never again let someone else determine what I want to do with my life and who I have to be.”

He brushed his left hand over the tattoo and Harry understood that it was meant as a symbol to show there were ways out of that darkness. Then Draco said something that almost broke him into pieces.

“And a reminder for you who I was and that we share a history none of us could ever forget!”

With this he looked Harry straight into the eye which made the other man swallow hard. Once again, he could read so much in them. There was fear of rejection as well a lot of hurt and darkness but also a warm longing, a desire. And then he hid these emotions again, as if Draco did not dare to feel.

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry quietly asked, letting his gaze trail from Draco’s arm towards the sky. Draco chuckled audible and ran a finger through his hair in disbelieve.

“Because this”, he looked at Harry and pointed between them, “makes me crazy. You kissing me, flirting with me. Looking like this. As if you did not know what this does to me.”

Inhaling one last time, he threw his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his foot. With a dramatic gesture he turned on one heel and walked back into the club, announcing theatrically: “I need a drink!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone guess which TV show I am talking about?


	8. Chapter six: He is a  real traditionalist - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to try publishing a bit differently and will now upload smaller bits of the chapters but more frequently (at least hope so)

# Chapter six: He is a real traditionalist

The rest of the night Draco spent drinking an obscene amount of shots, smiling politely but could not be convinced to talk to Harry about any serious matter anymore. It was as if they had hit an invisible barrier, a wall the pink-haired did not dare to cross or even touch again, as if he had already told Harry too much, been too vulnerable, too human. Luckily for Harry, Astoria managed to keep him quite occupied and therefore stopped him from overthinking. This night was definitely too much for him, the kissing, the revelation, the strange wording.

‘As if you did not know what this does to me!’

This one cryptic phrase kept spinning in his mind the whole next day when they had their hangover tradition watching telly and ordering huge amounts of food. He really wanted to ask Draco what he meant with that. If he thought about Harry in – in a sexual way. If he liked him or if he was simply too much to stand. What was the purpose of explaining who he had been, of reminding Harry they once stood on opposite sides? Making clear it was already enough work to be friends? Suggesting they did something wrong? Admitting he wanted more?

Our favourite Gryffindor would have done a lot of things to have the chance to confront Draco with his questions directly the very next day but the pink-haired refused to do him such a favour and instead decided to stay in his room the whole afternoon. He did not even take his usual shower which according to Daphne meant he either was suffering under a terrible hangover or having one ‘of his moods’. It turned out both options lead to the girls trying to avoid him for sake of their own health. Something Harry decided to do as well.

Returning back home to Grimaulde Place made him realize how much he grew to hating Sundays by himself. He so much had gotten used to hanging around with his new friends that now the idea of being on his own on a day he had nothing to do quite scared him. So, after a warm shower he decided to text Astoria and ask her to send him the pictures of the night before. He knew her well enough to know such a request would automatically lead to longer texting. Also, he needed to know if it was ok for her to show Teddy a picture of her outfit.

The response turned out to be a bit different to what he had expected. Instead of simply sending the pictures she had added him to a group chat and uploaded them there. The chat had two more members, two unfamiliar numbers. Luckily, he realized, both members had added a nickname. One was “The one and Daphne”, the other one simply said “D.M.”. Somehow Harry could feel how much Draco would have wanted his signature to be spelled cursive. Then he finally took a look at the pictures.

And his heart began melting.

In most of them Draco looked straight into the camera but one was different. In both his gaze was fixed upon Harry, a soft expression playing around his eyes and mouth. Something so tender, it almost felt inappropriate to see the other man like this. It was a very intimate look he gave picture Harry. The final piece to the puzzle. Draco looked at him lovestruck. It was there clearly.

Harry could be so sure of this because in another picture he was facing the taller man, bearing the same exact expression on his face. It was uncanny. Not only did he fancy Draco, this was true the other way around as well. Draco liked him and therefore kissing was hard for him. It was not a game to him.

Harry starred at his phone blankly, having trouble realizing what this meant. Draco had feelings for him, he liked him, there was a chance this fantasy of them being together could become true. He felt the gigantic grin on his face growing until it hurt the corners of his mouth. Scarcely did he even notice that he was not scared because of the new development. Hermione would have told him by now that this was because he actually, genuinely had fallen for the other man.

With the knowledge that this whole crush thing was not one-sided at all, Harry found his famous Gryffindor courage and decided it was high time to do something which would show Draco he indeed had intentions towards getting closer. Luckily for him, modern technology makes it way easier to get in contact with your special someone and now finally he had his number.

Which left him just with the problem of what to write. A part of him really wished he would be better at this. Another part considered asking his godson Teddy for help. Which was absurd. If a five-year old could do this, why was he hesitating at all? Maybe he was just simply overthinking it once again.

_17:27: Are you still suffering under your hangover?_

Minutes past like hours as he was starring at the words he had tipped into his phone. A simple message, light conversation, an easy start. But there was no response and Harry started wondering if he had made a mistake. Did Draco even have his number or would he just assume it was a stranger texting him? Maybe he thought the message came from a past shag trying to get in touch again.

_17:34: It’s Harry by the way._

_17:36: For Salazar’s sake Potter, I know it is you! And just to let you know, my hangover is fine, we have been spending quite some quality time together for the past hours. He is a rather clingy guy._

_17:38: Does that answer your question?_

_17:39: Well, yes._

_17:39: May I assume this information was not the only reason you decided to text me?_

_17:40: Of course not._

_17:41: Just to let you know: You are giving me a hard time enjoying this little chat. Why did you write me then?_

_17:41: To talk a bit, I guess?_

_17:43: It this supposed to be an answer or a question?_

_17:43: Gosh, sometimes I really sound like Severus, do I not?_

_17:44: What are you doing right now?_

_17:45: Laying in bed naked, enjoying the luxury of silk and satin caressing my delicious skin._

_17:46: Obviously, I am trying NOT do die because my head is killing me._

Even if it was meant as a joke Harry could do nothing else but imagine Draco as described. Naked, in his bed, the long limbs stretched out, the blanket only covering a few inches of that gorgeous body. Interestingly, he noticed, his mind decided to censor this fantasy, covering up Draco’s most intimate parts. Still, Harry could feel the effect these thoughts had on him very clearly and therefore he forgot to write back for a while.

_17:51: What made you decide to start texting me today out of all days?_

_17:52: I didn’t have your number._

As soon as he had sent the message, he knew how stupid he must have sounded.

_17:55: Well, you never asked._

This simple message hit him harder than it should have. Indeed, he had never asked for Draco’s number. The first few weeks they always arranged a next meeting before they parted. It was only Astoria who asked for his contact. After coming over to the apartment, it was Astoria who texted him or he was invited there again. There never was a need to write to Draco.

_17:58: I am sorry for that._

_17:59: Oh, do not bother, there was no need to text me._

_17:59: Which brings me back to my point: Why are you writing me now?_

Harry figured telling him the straight forward truth like a true Gryffindor would maybe not succeed. So, going like ‘I have more than a crush on you and I think you fancy the shit out of me as well, so I thought this would be a great way to get to know you better’ was out of question. Coming up with a stupid reason would only make him look suspicious as he knew from his personal history, he was a more than bad liar.

And he was overthinking it again instead of just simply writing.

_18:05: I wanted to talk to you._

What followed next were a few of the rather worst minutes of his life. Draco did not answer. Therefore, Harry decided to do something else like cleaning up the kitchen. Which took only about ten minutes as his constant gaze on the phone told him. He started watching telly, which did not work out, he noticed as he caught himself checking his phone every minute.

Maybe his message was the problem. Maybe he sounded as if he wanted to scold Draco, to tell him off for kissing and liking him? Maybe he had given the complete wrong impression.

_18:27: Like not in a bad way, simply chat a bit._

Again, no response.

By 18:40 he was completely and utterly sure he had screwed up big times and every possible chance of getting closer to Draco now was out of his reach once again. How was it possible for one person to so much suck at texting? How could he be so bad at something so very basic?

He was still sulking when a few minutes later his phone finally vibrated once again. In disbelief he stared at the message on the screen.

_18:42: I have to excuse myself for not replying, I took quite a long shower._

_18:43: So, chatting it is then._

Harry somehow felt as if there was more behind the delayed response than showering even though the thought of a very naked Draco made his cheeks flush quite a lot.

_18:44: Are you sure with the shower?_

Again, he could have hit himself on the head very hard for this stupid message. Why would someone be lying about taking a shower. The response however made him reconsider his ability in texting.


	9. Chapter 9

Instead of insulting him for the suspicion of lying to him Draco had chosen to simply proof his point by sending a picture of himself. Obviously coming out of the shower. His skin and hair still wet from the water. His chest naked. Him wearing nothing else but a towel around his waist, or at least one could guess so. And Harry was lost.

He stared at the blank chest, admired the faint traces of lean muscles under the skin, clearly showing of how well built the other man was. It was not that Draco had a perfectly defined upper body, he was indeed rather slim but in good shape, maybe a bit skinny but Harry noticed he quite liked that look. Muscles only where they were definitely needed and obviously used. For a long time, he had imagined how Draco would look like underneath the well fitted clothes but this was way better than he could have ever imagined it.

His gaze locked upon the chest area and he suddenly very clearly remembered that one awful night during sixth year when they met in the bathroom. The blood, the horror. But nothing of it could be seen as a large tattoo covered up most of Draco’s chest. Again, the colours were held in black and white with only a very small percentage of red in the centre. It was loosely connected to the piece on the right arm but this linework was not as clear, rather smudgy, reminding him of vermin and other crawling creatures, all running together around that red spot, wrapping around it. Protecting it. Or suffocating.

Harry was so intrigued by the picture that it took him quite a while to respond. Obviously too long for Draco’s taste.

_18:52: I have to assume one of the following things:_

_18:52: a) You had a heart attack because you were so struck by my inhumanly good looks._

_18:53: b) You cannot stop staring at my picture and wondering if I really am only wearing a towel loosely wrapped around my hips._

If Draco Malfoy was one thing in this world, he was a tease. Harry had to swallow hard, imagining him in his bedroom, carelessly assuming his impact on our favourite Gryffindor, not even imagining how close he was to the truth. And then another picture arrived and Harry’s brain stopped working and his groin took over.

It showed a close up of Draco’s lower torso, clearly emphasizing the defined muscles running down towards his thighs and indeed how loose the towel was hanging around his hips. Harry’s mouth went dry as he imagined what was hidden underneath the soft fabric and how much he wanted to see more. His fingers moved automatically and this time he did not think twice before hitting the ‘send’-button.

_18:55: You sure, you are not secretly hiding any trunks beneath that towel?_

Maybe, his erection already painfully pressing against his own jeans whispered into his mind, this was a game he could play as well.

The next picture was taken from above and showed Draco raising one eyebrow and half-smiling into the camera, showing of his whole body from top to bottom, the free hand pulling down the towel a bit further. What followed was another text-message.

_18:58: Why do I somehow believe you are just trying to trick me into sending more pictures?_

If Harry was one thing then it was absolutely sure that he wanted to trick Draco into sending more pictures. Even more than that he would have loved to touch that delicious part of skin temptingly peeking out of the pulled down towel. The sharp hipbones were clearly visible, the muscles leading downwards well defined and Harry could definitely tell now that Draco might be lean but in excellent shape. He wondered how it would feel to run his fingers over the sensitive skin, his tongue following.

_19:00: Why do I somehow belief you like showing off your fabulous body?_

_19:01: Fabulous it is indeed, thank you very much for noticing._

_19:01: So, tell me, was the true purpose of texting me to finally get a glimpse of me naked?_

_19:04: You started sending pictures!_

_19:05: I can stop as well and you can delete them, end of story._

_19:05: I won’t._

Only when Draco replied again, did Harry notice the undertone one could easily read into his last message. But maybe this was ok because his subconsciousness had planned to do so anyways.  
  


_19:07: Will you look at them?_

His mouth went dry thinking about the implication of when he would look at them again. He felt his cheeks heating up as well as his groin aching with desire and knew the answer. Anyhow it would have definitely been Draco he would think about while touching himself. Now he did not need to only use his imagination but had the chance to look at the real thing.

_19:08: Better than just imagining you._

He was surprised by how daring his last message had been but the signals from Draco were so clear, weren’t they. And if kissing was not obvious enough for the other man to notice he was definitely interested, he had to go at least one step further.

Harry did in fact receive one more picture that evening. This time Draco’s face was not in the picture. Neither was his torso. However, the bulge in his towel, giving away a rather concrete impression of what was hidden beneath, was indeed interesting as well.

_19:10: The rest I will leave up to your imagination. For today at least. Enjoy._

Which Harry did quite a lot, imagining his hands on the other mans body, touching the sensitive skin, licking over the pale pink nipples, scratching his teeth over the sharp hipbone. Again, those grey eyes were prominently featured but this time his fantasies revolved around the actual Draco and not some nebulous man. He at least came imagining how it would feel like touching Draco’s cock, rubbing their errections together to create friction.  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Texting with Draco turned out to be different to what Harry had expected. And on the same side it was absolutely like he had imagined. It was a lot about teasing, taunting but never directly addressing something. It felt like a dance whose move set he still had to learn but he could enjoy it from the very beginning.

Not everything was sexual by the way. In fact, Monday evening was spent discussing the importance of the right glasses.

_17:56: Did you ever notice the different taste of liquids poured into the wrong glass?_

_17:59: Actually no._

_18:00: Where are you and why is that important?_

_18:01: Obviously I am in hell where they do not know how to serve champagne!_

_18:02: It tastes awful!_

_18:04: Are you sure it is because of the champagne or maybe because you still feel the weekend?_

_18:06: Touché, Potter!_

A few minutes later Harry would receive an answer as to where the other man currently was in the form of a selfie in front of a very expensive looking tapestry, a round glass without a stem. His left eyebrow was raised and critically and he was staring into the camera as if he tried to evoke pity while still looking fabulous.

Of course, Harry instantly noticed the Glamour. Draco’s hair had his pale blond colour back and instead of a bun he was wearing it neatly tied back and held in place by an elegant ribbon. Instead of the usual muggle clothes he now was dressed in a grey and blue three piece which accentuated his slim frame and broad shoulders. The grey almost mirrored his eyes and the dark blue enhanced his paleness and made him look almost otherworldly elegant were it not for the annoyed expression on his face.

_18:11: Nice tapestry, I guess? Why are you so dressed up and glamoured?_

_18:13: By any means Harry, THIS is not dressed up, I consider it business chic. I am at a client’s and the least they can expect is me looking flawless. Even though I now have to question that as well._

_18:15: Champagne in those glasses…_

_18:16: Wish me luck! I will text you later if I got the job._

Harry vaguely remembered that the awful article had mentioned Draco’s profession, calling him something like a healing consultant. Why would anybody refuse to work with him? He mindlessly searched through his kitchen cupboards, a mannerism he had picked up somewhat two years ago.

He tried to find the business card Draco had handed him when they had met for the first time. That seemed to have happened such a long time ago. So much had changed first. He finally found it, two rubber band wrapped around it and a paperclip holding it in place. He had decided to keep it after their meeting, just in case.

_Draco L. Malfoy_

_ Freelancing consultant for Dark Curses_

_ Including the handling of Dark Artefacts_

_ And poisoning through Ancient Receipts_

_ Contact: Owling Station 314 b, London_

Nothing on that piece of carton pointed towards Draco being connected to healing or anything but indeed it explained a lot about why the other man might struggle finding clients. A lot of the old wizarding families had kept their heirlooms through and after the war, secretly storing them in mansions on the countryside. Not all of them used to be connected to Voldemort, not all were Death Eaters, some just had a fable for old magic things. He would know, his department had to investigate in those cases from time to time.

And the clients. Well, they could be difficult to put it nicely. Those who were never officially connected to Dark Magic tried their best to hide cursed artefacts and such things to make sure nobody got the wrong impression. Those who had followed the Dark Lord were not keen on Aurors entering what bit was left of their privacy and therefore not really cooperative.

Of course, Harry was no official member of the Artefacts Taskforce for obvious reasons. Almost any witch or wizard knew his face and the role he had played during the war so naturally they would be extra careful with forbidden objects around him. Maybe that was the reason he had never worked with Draco until this very day.

With a smile he turned the card in his hands. Working with Draco, knowing about the real Draco hidden beneath all those glamours, could be the most fun he had had at his job in the last few months.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry knew he did not have to work. He knew people did not expect him to do anything else than rest on his fame and fortune, show his face to the press from time to time and pretend to be the grad Saviour of the Wizarding World. He had never felt like that was enough.

After returning to Hogwarts for his eighth year he had considered staying there even after the reparations on the castle had been done and become a professor or help Hagrid with the caretaking. It had urged him for quite a while to stay where he had felt home for the first time. But somehow his initial decision of becoming a permanent resident at Hogwarts did not make him as happy as he thought it would.

It needed Professor McGonagall’s insight to make him realize staying at Hogwarts would be nothing more than him trying to escape the burden of growing out of your destiny, overcoming every expectation and having to face a life in which he was responsible for only himself and nothing more.

It was a rather chill April evening and Hogwarts was buzzing with life, more and more students returning during the year as the school had officially be reopened for the next term and was already accepting former students who wished to give it a try on their finals. Harry was casually lounging in the Great Hall after having finished his dinner quite some time ago when the new headmaster approached him, two steaming cups of tea in her hands.

“Isn’t it lovely to see Hogwarts being alive once again, Mr. Potter?”, she asked while taking place opposite of him. It was nothing unusual for her to join his lonely evenings at that time. And lonely they had been. During the first months he was kept busy by all the work that needed to be done at the castle first and then with the people suffering under what had happened to them, what they had to see. But day by day everyone managed to return to their normal lives step by step. It was a slow process, still he noticed the changes. Ron and Hermione rather spending time together than as the three of them, students getting hyped for Quidditch matches once again, a Ravenclaw girl crying over her homework instead of the victims of war. Together with the castle its inhabitants managed to heal. 

All of them did so well. They sometimes talked about the war, with him, about him. Asked for his advice. But they became fewer quickly. And one day he even heard someone whisper that they should not ask him for help because he had done enough already.

And believe me, Harry really tried to feel the same. To genuinely be convinced he had played his part and was now free to do whatever pleased him but for someone who had always had a prophecy hanging above his head, a certain direction his life was supposed to go it turned out to be impossible to hold his feet still. This was when the idea came to his mind that he could become a staff member of Hogwarts and be useful in the future.

The rumours of Harry actually staying at Hogwarts after they graduation had spread so quickly Headmaster Minerva McGonagall had decided to take matters in her own hands. She decided to go for a tactic which had always worked in the past: tea and a light conversation started, followed by the hard truth directly into someone’s face.

“The only one not feeling alive is you, Mr. Potter, I sadly have to admit. These days I see you walking through the halls like a ghost burdened with unfinished business,” she told him in her sincere voice and Harry’s reaction proved her right. He just looked her in the eyes, a tiredness in his own which did not suit a boy of only eighteen years. He looked at her with the expression of someone who had lived a life and now was ready to step back and let the next generation take over.

“After finishing your last year here, you will leave Hogwarts and start your own life. This is not your home anymore, Harry dear. For you it unfortunately is nothing more than a reminiscence of the past, a memorial for people you lost.”

She carefully padded his shoulder, both sitting there stiffly, unfamiliar with the intimate gesture but she saw her message had arrived as Harry nodded slowly, glimpsing to his left where Ginevra Weasley was currently chatting with Neville Longbottom.

Maybe this girl would lead him back into life, maybe she was just another escape route young Harry Potter had to take before finding his own way, she thought to herself while they were silently sitting opposite of each other, keeping company. For her, it was her duty to stay here, rebuild the school and fill it with her very own spirit, but Harry on the other hand deserved to be free of his past even if that meant forcing him to leave – for now.

You can of course imagine how hurt he had felt the couple of days after this conversation but in the aftermath, Harry registered it had been a very wise move of his former teacher. All by himself he would have never left Hogwarts and with that his past. 


	12. Chapter 12

When it turned eleven and he still hadn’t received a text from Draco Harry decided it would be ok to be curious and ask about how the evening went. In return this time he got a voice message as obviously Draco had a lot to tell and was too lazy to type it.

Before clicking on the play button, the dark-haired man realized how much he actually was looking forward to hearing Draco’s voice and grinned sheepishly. There was no way he could even tell himself he was not crazy about the other bloke. And right now, maybe this was not one sided at all. I mean, he immediately responded.

_That, that was something. You know I have become used to posh pureblood behaviour but this. This was something different. Enchanted silver knifes, self-filling wine-desire glasses – without a stem once again! And the food! Fusion cooking. Harry, who in the bloody circles of any hell needs to ruin a perfectly fine meal by fusing it with another one making both inedible. Not that I could have really tried. Adding meat to each and every dish? Are we really still in the Dark Ages where you had to show your wealth through serving animal corpses? Ugh! But the worst, the worst was the sniffing. Whenever I said something, up their noses went. I hate it, why did they owl me at all? And the worst – I mean the actual worst: I still really want this job. I detest this desperate state! I will pour myself some more liquor as this evening obviously is already lost!_

Harry had to listen to the message twice as Draco’s voice definitely sounded like the wine glasses were working and he maybe had one to many. Which maybe was quite a lot as far as he could judge the other man’s ability to hold his liquor. A lot of questions still arose and Harry decided it would be best to just simply ask all of them.

_23:03: What job is it?_

_23:03: Who was sniffing at you?_

_23:04: You don’t eat meat?_

_23:04: The hell has circles?_

This time the answer took a while and he could see Draco on the other end staring at his phone and typing furiously, a self-assured grin on his face while launching in an extravagant chair and drinking way to expensive alcohol.

_23:11: The job is the one your dear colleagues from Dark Artefacts have tried to get their fingers on for the last couple of months. You remember the one for the Algherion family, the silver goblet that never empties? And it was Madame Algherion her very self who dared to sniff at my eating habits. How dare she! Owning one of the most precious artefacts enchanted with a liquor charm and drinking cheap champagne from stemless glasses automatically makes you lose your privilege to sniff at me._

_23:13: And for the meat thing: I somehow could not stow the thought of eating anything with a face after everything that had happened…well you know when._

_23:14: I will need another drink._

_23:14: Are you drinking as well?_

_23:16: Harry, you illiterate!_

_23:18: Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura, ché la diritta via era smarrita._

_23:20: That was posh, even for my standards!_

_23:21: I expected nothing less from you!_

_23:23: What language is that?_

_23:24: Thank Merlin, you did not run away! It is Italian, the Divine Comedy. I have a copy in my bedroom, you should read it when you come over next time._

_23:26: Are you inviting me into your bed?_

_23:30: I have to stop this conversation now, I am way to drunk to not regret the next thing I really, really would love to say. Good night, thank you for asking, how it went. I appreciate that very much._

For someone who had never been utterly and absolutely in love with another person and slowly came to realize, their feelings were mutual, it would be incomprehensible how happy Harry felt right then. He stared at the screen of his phone until it turned back only to reread their conversation over and over, forming the best parts with his lips.

There was something Draco did not dare to say. It would be only logical if it were an invitation. Their messaging had led into no other direction. Harry grinned like a mad man and decided to open an own bottle of beer. He even took a (rather bad to be honest) picture of it standing on the kitchen counter and sent it to Draco with the caption “Cheers to you Draco.”

The unexpected answer was a picture of two whiskey glasses, one still containing a bit of fluid, the other one clean and empty. And maybe, just maybe this was indeed an invitation.


	13. Chapter 13

That night Harry had a nightmare for the first time in a very long time. He woke up with an aching in his heart he could not explain as the left-over dream pictures started to fade away the minute he awoke. The only thing left was the feeling of missing somebody essential to his life. He vaguely remembered he was dreaming quite a normal dream but seemed to be searching for something, someone. But he could not figure out who it was and the longing for a person that did not exist in his dream reality hurt him so much, he consciously decided to break out of it.

Waking up he felt an overwhelming sadness inside of him as if something had been stolen. Someone.

He used to have these dreams a lot after the war. Often, they were very bloody, visually reminding him of the ones he lost. Sometimes he dreamt of searching for people long gone. His parents, his godfather. But waking up meant he would not find them so Harry decided to stay in the state of uncertainty for as long as possible. As long as he was neither asleep nor awake those people were like Schroedinger’s Cat, somehow both dead and alive – but missing – in his dreams.

Today it somehow felt a bit different as is this half-conscious state he realized the aching of his heart was replaced by a slight shimmer of happiness. The awareness that in fact the person he was so desperately searching for was at his own place, hopefully sleeping peacefully.

He had been dreaming of Draco, searching for him, needing him in his life somehow but could not get a grip of him because in the dream reality he did not exist.

With a tired smile Harry got up to go to the kitchen sink and gulp a glass of water. He definitely was lost.

For our favourite Gryffindor this realization was an achievement as well. All his life he somehow never had been normal, never like the others. When Dudley was a child, he was simply spoiled but Harry was weird – maybe because he was a wizard. When he came to Hogwarts and was surrounded by other children with the same powers, he became the Boy who Lived. When the Hocruxes appeared, he became the Chosen one. The war made him the Boy who Lived Twice. A hero. Someone who was special, different to others.

When he thought he fell in love for the first time, he did not even wonder it felt different to the descriptions of his friends. Everything had been different for him so that should be normal right? He was still in love with Cho even though his heart was not racing or he was not constantly thinking about her, right? The relationship with Ginny had to be different as well because all of they had been through, didn’t it?

For a long time, Harry Potter just simply accepted he was born to be different and lived with it. He had gotten used to not being able to feel the same emotions as his friends. He grew used to always missing something that did not exist anymore.

But tonight felt different. Tonight, he was missing someone he could actually have. Someone alive. Someone who made his heart race. A man he had to constantly think about, even when he was asleep and for the first time Harry Potter felt like a normal person.


	14. Chapter 14

After school, everyone seemed to be so eager to start their lives. Their real lives. They all seemed to have a plan. All except for Harry, the Boy There Had Always Been A Plan For. When asked what he wanted to do with his life now that he was finally free, he just grinned knowingly and people somehow assumed he thought they were joking. That is was obvious.

Indeed, he had a thousand plans even after being told he should not become a teacher. Opening a bookstore. Breeding owls. Starting a bakery. Becoming a healer. Working as an unspeakable. Joining Charlie in studying dragons. Qualifying for the national Quidditch League. Becoming an Auror. Restoring old magical houses. Opening a restaurant.

One has to know two things about Harry’s choice of profession: First, for him one possibility was as good as the other, he did not really care which one it would become. Second, writing his memoires was certainly none of them. He was nineteen years old when he finished school, going on twenty. There were decades of his life still lying in front of him, why should he start with his memoires when he had just started living.

Even though it did not feel like that.

When everyone else was busy continuing their life, moving on after the war, he somehow felt like he was starting a new one. A life where he could choose the direction it should go to. A chance for a restart with all possibilities lying open in front of him, the world waiting for him to make his choice. Holding their breath.

Therefore, he did the only logical thing. He did nothing.

Instead of entering a career straight after finishing school or traveling around the world to find himself, Harry Potter did nothing else in the first year of his new life than renovate the rooms at Grimmauld Place, have regular Sunday evening dinners with the Weasleys and try to have a healthy relationship with his childhood sweetheart Ginny. For the press everything sounded just perfect and if you had asked Harry back then if he were happy, he would have certainly been surprised by your question.

Everything was as it should be.

But inside he felt ruthless. Stressed. Lost.

Harry Potter had been growing up fulfilling expectations. For the Dursleys he had been a varmint. A boy who did not know his place and therefore he behaved as such. For his classmates he had been the Golden Boy who did not have to follow the same rules as them, so he did not. For his housemates he was their mischievous idol, so he let them idolize him. For the Slytherins he was the untouchable enemy, so he let none of them close and dehumanized them. For Dumbledore he was a stupid child, who had to be led onto the righteous path, so he let himself be controlled. For Sirius he had been a lost chance, so he accepted to give him hope. During the war he served many as a beacon of light and he let the flame burn him down. His purpose ended with the death of Voldemort.

Sometimes he still wondered if a part of him had stayed dead back then.

Most of the times he did not. Because he was sure it was true. The Harry Potter born a hero had died. The Golden Boy, the Saviour had been gone, vanished together with the darkness he had to fight. What was left was a very ordinary young man who was struggling to find his place in this world as – in contrast to other people at his age – he never had the chance and time to test out who he actually was. 

He knew nothing about himself but that he was rather good at defeating evil wizards. That and Ron constantly nagging him about it led to the decision of becoming an Auror.

First, they even wanted him to be allowed to skip all the training and start directly but luckily, he refused. The programme turned out to be every inch as hard as Ron had complained about. The lack of sleep, the exhaustion, endless lectures on crime statistics, tests after tests of which he failed several on first try and in the end the devastating result for his classmates and the salvation for him: Harry Potter did not get assigned to the Special Task force actively hunting down dark wizards and witches. He did not meet the criteria. Instead, he became part of the research crew who helped gather evidence.

It was a dull, rather boring job and he could not have been happier. Finally, he was nothing special anymore. However, from time to time an assignment struck his curiosity and no one would have dared to speak up against him. Maybe the Algherion case nobody at their office wanted to deal with as the family was considered to be ‘difficult’ was actually a blessing for him.


	15. Chapter seven: He has a dark side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, it has been so long, but I will try to update a tiny part every days this week!

# Chapter seven: He has a dark side

The next day Harry got up as usually around 6.30, stumbled into the kitchen to prepare his coffee and the slurp into the bathroom. Every morning he was wondering how he even managed to find his mouth with his toothbrush. Since he had been living on his own, getting up in the morning was way less stressful as he did not have to talk to people anymore. Luckily. He hated talking before coffee.

Starring at himself in the mirror blankly he wondered if Draco was a morning person. He tried to remember their time back in Hogwarts when breakfast was spent glaring at each other from across the Great Hall. He could not even remember if Malfoy took tea or coffee. An amused smirk hushed over his face. How strange that he was thinking about their breakfast habits back then. As if he would have ever paid attention to such a detail back then. Now he would love to know. Maybe because this would imply Draco had stayed the night.

Splashing cold water into his face to think about something else than a very handsome pink-haired man between his sheets, Harry critically analysed his own features in the mirror. He had never been a self-observed guy but since he wanted to appear attractive for someone, the time he spent in front of a mirror posing had drastically increased. Draco always looked plain perfect, even if he did not try to (Secretly, Harry was sure that Draco put a rather huge amount of effort into his ‘out-of-bed’ looks – he was quite right but Draco would have never admitted that until much later when Harry finally got the chance to see what a mess his boyfriend really was in the morning and believe me, Draco is not a morning person! And Harry loves him the most when he is a vulnerable, grumpy mess.). He brushed the chaotic bunch of hair out of his face to reveal the famous scar. Retracing the faint lines with his eyes he wondered if he should start hiding it more to ensure it was not a constant reminder for Draco of where they knew each other from.

There were certain things that had always defined Harry. His name, the famous scar, him belonging to Gryffindor, the prophecy. None of them he had chosen himself. Not for the first time he wondered what kind of person he would have become if he was not born Harry Potter. It had taken him a lot of effort to overcome the fact he would never know his born family. Losing Sirius and then Remus had reopened that scarcely healed wound once more, something the outside world somehow did not seem to realise.

For all the wizards and witches out there, he was The Man Who Lived Twice, the born hero, Auror and pride of the community. But maybe, just maybe the time had come to reinvent himself. But was it to early for an outing? Was being in love – because this had to be love, the feelings were way to strong for a simple crush – enough to make such an announcement?

Maybe he should start a notch smaller and use his name for something he really cared about. Like re-establishing another man’s reputation. A grin with a hint of mischief stole itself on his face while he lighted the fire in his chimney and firecalled a good old friend to ask for a favour.


	16. Chapter 16

Everything went so well, Harry once again wondered where into his name wouldn’t open him any door. Misses Imogen Algherion was more than happy to finally hear from someone “capable”. It was a pleasure, such a pleasure to receive a message from Harry Potter himself, the renown expert in everything concerning Dark Magic. Her husband and her would have reached out to him long time ago wouldn’t it have been pretentious to assume the hero of the wizarding world had time for their case. But now that he let the Ministry call them, they were more than glad, so delighted to hear from Mr. Potter.

The letter Lady Imogen - as she referred to herself - had written went on like this quite a while and something so pretentious like an overly excited text about how great he was written with royal blue enchanted ink on what Harry assumed to be hand- made paper would have normally ruin his mood instantly. But this one was different. This one included one of the single best sentences Harry had read this year:

_If you suggest Mr. Malfoy was the best choice in this delicate matter, I have to trust your expertise, however, I would be more than pleased to know you are also – even if not directly – involved in the case._

He managed to use his famous name to help someone who was important to him and that felt great. Harry still grinned a bit like a maniac even long after he had put away the letter. It was all to easy. One call at the ministry to ask for the head inspector working on the Algherion case. A quick three minute chat with someone called Firsesteen, a really nervous looking woman in her thirties who would have never expected to talk to Harry Potter this morning other wise she….(this was where he had interrupted her). He plain simply told her he was interested in the case personally and she would do him a favour if she convinced the Algherions Draco Malfoy was their best choice.

It only took until the early afternoon until the more than flattering letter from the lady of the house arrived. Now Draco would definitely get the job and they could maybe hang out around the office as well. Maybe he would notice there that Harry really cared for him. Our favourite Gryffindor was just about to text the other man about his accomplishment when it arrived.

It was bright red, gigantic and unmistakably something he had not seen in ages. A very pretty eagle owl had managed to get into Grimmauld place and had dropped a very intimidating looking letter in front of him. It was nothing else but a Howler.

Curiously whom might have a reason and the guts to send him something like this, Harry carefully reached for the red parchment. This alone was enough for the magic to be triggered. Quickly, the letter folded itself into a face-like structure, interestingly enough resembling a snake kind of and a very distinctive voice started shouting at him.

_Potter you fucking cunt!_

_How dare you! What in Salazar’s balls had ridden you to contact the bloody Ministry! I just received the most embarrassing dirty excuse for blackmail in the history of blackmailing, and believe me, my family has a rather impressive collection! You twat really asked a favour of the darn Aurors to give me this stupid job?! Are you out of your mind? How dare you deciding I could not manage to find a job by myself? Do you pretentious piece of arrogance not think for a second? All my reputation will be gone. As if I needed the help of the bloody Saviour of the Wizarding World to find work. You overconfident arsehole I do not need your pity. And I really thought you would believe in me. Fuck you, Scarhead!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, I am sick...I don't really feel well enough to write

That was a reaction he definitely had not expected. Harry starred at the Howler ripping itself into tiny shreds and still could not believe what had happened. Draco was not happy about the chance. He did not thank Harry for the chance but rather insult him. Draco was so ungrateful!

With that thought came the anger. An evil feeling that started deep down in his bowls and fought his way up through his stomach into his chest where it grew into an unidentified mess that felt dark and under pressure. Something that definitely wanted out.

How could he dare? Well because he cared for that ungrateful cunt, that was why. It was just an attempt to help him, so why did he overreact so much? There was no bad intention behind this! Why was he the bad guy when he just wanted to help? His first intuition was to grab his phone and text back, maybe leave an angry text message. But would that be enough? I mean, Draco had gone as far as sending a Howler, maybe he should do the same? The other guy obviously was into dram, so why not give him what he wanted? Or maybe he should just simply show it at the doorstep and demand to talk, make a scene.

Harry was already consumed by how he planned to make an entrance, explaining his case to Draco, showing off how impossible the other man had reacted, when the phone in his hands rang once. A text-message.

_13:22: It is absolutely none of my business but whatever you did, you hurt Draco. Just to let you know, he might behave angry but he really is just trying not to show weakness. ~Daphne_

~

That revelation had hit Harry so hard, he needed to talk to someone and usually this someone was Hermione. Without wasting a thought, he had shown up at her doorstep hoping she would have some encouraging words assuring him he did nothing wrong. But life does not always go as you intend it to. Therefore, neither was Hermione the one greeting him at the front door nor was he meet with reassuring words.

“Oh, Saint Potter, are you here to help me with my miserable existence as well or does our great saviour think he has gifted me enough with his name?”, Ron snarled at him, little Hugo in in his arm. His tone was anything between amused, sarcastic and frustrated. He nodded towards the living room, gesturing Harry to follow him while he went on: “Hermione is at the Prophet as a delegate from the Ministry, trying to do damage control but I am afraid the news of Malfoy manipulating you with his charms have already spread.”

Harry starred at him blankly. What?

He had no intention to proclaim such a thing. He would have never thought his attempt to help Draco could be misunderstood in any way. Of course, Ron had to be joking right. Unfortunately, his best friend looked at him with this one serious expression on his face he had scarcely seen in the 13 years they had known each other by now. Ron was not making jokes at all.

“I heard what you did first this morning when I got into the department to fill in my paperwork. All of the Aurors were talking about Malfoy and how it could be possible the filthy Death Eater had managed to dig his claws into your flesh. Sounds like a secret investigation is planned. They want to blow his private life up completely to assure he has not cursed you into anything,” he explained while he carelessly managed to keep Rosie occupied.

Harry, who had been sitting at the very edge of his armchair, jumped up and starred at him, unsure what to do or say. This was not what he had planned! How could something so simple as wanting to help a friend re-establishing his name go so terribly wrong. Cursed be his own name.

Only once he wanted to use his fame to help Draco and it turned out the exact opposite of what he wanted.

Ron breathed in loudly and put his son aside to place his now free hands into his lap and watch Harry with a raised eyebrow. He seemed to be considering what to say next, as he was licking his lips – something he had the habit of always doing when he wanted to say something important but was insecure of how to express himself without offending people.

“You know, Hermione told me you have been hanging around with Malfoy for a while now and I kept wondering if you pitied him or something. It never struck me that it could have anything to do with why you left Ginny, but it has, hasn’t it? You hate it when you get something free just because of your name, you never use your fame for other people. Unless you like them. Like _like_ like them. And you do, otherwise you would have just called the press and not shown up at our place to get advice. And I don’t get how or why it is that git and how you manage to no hate him anymore but I want you to know, I’m ok with that. Even though you screwed up big times, Harry.”

Overrun by the little speech Ron had given him Harry sank back into the cushions and looked at the floor. Was it so obvious? Even to Ron with whom he had never spoken about anything concerning relationships or such? Helpless he scratched his hair and held his head with that hand, the elbow resting on his knee.

“I’m an idiot, right?”

Ron looked at him and could not help but grin.

“Oh boy, you definitely are. I mean you had good intentions but has it never occurred to you that you might violate Malfoy’s pride by deciding to interfere in his business life over his head?”

Harry blinked. Once. Twice. And then wished he had something like a big heavy iron pan next to him so he could hit himself onto his very stupid head where his malfunctioning brain was sitting. By Merlin, what had he done? 

“Well, the child already fell into the pound. Let’s see what Hermione could accomplish and talk about how mad your boyfriend is,” Ron continued jokingly. Harry felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He had expected a lot of reactions from his best friend if he would have ever outed himself and admitted he was in love with Draco Malfoy but mischievousness was none of them.

“He is not my boyfriend and after today I think even the tiniest bit of a chance to ever change that is gone because I am Harry Potter, the Prick Who Is To Arrogant To See What He Is Doing,” he mumbled, now letting out a deep breath himself which was quitted by a friendly touch on the shoulder and a nod from a grinning Ron, showing him once again that he was obviously an idiot.


	18. Chapter 18

Unfortunately, not even Hermione Granger was able to stop the mechanisms of press from working and therefore Harry the Boy Who Was Totally Ashamed Of his Gullibility was delivered the Daily Prophet with his own picture on the front page once again. Next to the snapshot of him looking somewhere thoughtlessly the awful headline screamed for attention. “Salvation for Those Who Do Not Deserve It”. His first instinct was to tear the newspaper into tiny shreds before even reading it but if his past with the press had taught him one thing it was: Know your enemy. So, with a deep breath praying for patience he started reading.

** **

** _ Salvation for Those Who Do Not Deserve It _ **

** _ _ **

_Harry Potter is known for his many good traits. He is fearless, courageous, sympathetic, generous and as we know today forgiving. News have arrived of our Golden Boy working hard on re-establishing the reputation of his former enemies. And who would be a better choice than the former Prince of Slytherin Draco Malfoy himself?_

_After having kept his life reluctantly private in the years directly after the war the out and proud gay bachelor had returned to the public at the beginning of ball season last year. His re-entrance into society was cleverly planned as his outing overshadowed his past for quite a while._

_Apparently, his self-proclaimed independence from the Malfoy fortune and the ridiculous plan to work as an independent consultant for the Ministry did not work out quite as well for young Mr. Malfoy. And obviously, who of us would trust a former Death Eater with handling ancient family trinkets. We don’t know anything about the devastatingly handsome blond devil other that he has a well-known history of manipulating people to do what he wants._

_And it seems as finally he has been successful with this even with our beloved Harry. Although the two of them have never been spotted in public together we have prove of several heart-breaking letters Mr. Malfoy had sent to Grimaud Place in order to get our Saviours attention. Rumours spread that he even tried to use his cousin Theodore Lupin in order to get closer to our Harry. And all of this under the pretence of good will._

_After having split up with his long-term girlfriend Ginny on amicable terms we all understand that young Mister Potter might feel lonely and confused but Harry, really? A Death Eater?_

_As we still don’t know how Draco Malfoy really spends his private life other than hooking up with respectable wizards, seducing them to fall for his evil charms we are afraid our hero might have been caught in this sticky web of false need and friendliness as well. _

_Harry, if you read this, you have been warned. Stay away from this snake, he eventually may bite you!_

He had to clench his jaws together in order not to scream out loudly. How could they dare to write such bullshit! Draco was absolutely right, this article was a direct attack on his reputation, taking away all the credit he had earned for his hard work so far. He did not deserve that! And all of it was Harry’s fault.

For the at least thousandth time our favourite but right now miserable Gryffindor starred at his phone, opened the messages and tried to come up with anything he could tell Draco that would make everything better. But there was nothing. Frustrated he wanted to put the device away once again when a soft vibration showed a new message had arrived.

From Draco himself.

_8:33: Well, the damage is done. It turned out not as bad as I thought, at least they did not automatically assume I let you fuck me to get what I want. Still pretty bad and I am still mad at you. Especially for not reacting to my impressive Howler. To make one thing clear Potter, we are having an argument here, so do not dare to ghost me! Instead you should definitely come up with one of your masterplans on how to save me from my misery pretty soon. I mean, the Prophet knows how well you do with those._

_8:34: Seriously, I am expecting presents and grand gestures so we can remain friends._

_D._

His heart skipped more than one beat while he was reading that. It was so Draco to tell him what to do and not allow Harry to not write and put effort into their friendship but he was more than happy. In the back of his mind he had actually considered their relationship to be over and the pink-haired man never speaking to him. With a tiny grin on his face Harry decided maybe he should for once do exactly what Draco told him to and buy presents.


	19. Chapter 19

He ended up buying way too much (maybe because he had taken Teddy alongside) and did not know how to proceed from there. Should he send a giant basket with all the nippit in it or was sending daily tiny things better? Was this whole present-thing a sarcastic joke from Draco he didn’t get? This whole flirting thing was way too confusing for his brain. With Ginny he just simply bought what she wished for and gave it to her. Most of the time she even got him directions to where to buy what exactly. Anyhow, his feelings for Ginny had been very different, he had realized by now.

It was not that he did not love her. He still had genuine feelings for her, like for a sister. With Draco it was different. There was a constant pulling and longing in his chest, a desire to be close to him. They hadn’t seen each other for a week now and other than the Howler and the explanation of what he was expected to do, Harry hadn’t heard from Draco either. Which normally would not trouble him as he was used to not hear from people quite much (what happens when one of your closest friends is Luna Lovegood). This time however he was almost dying as he hated the tension between them so much.

Which leads us to right now where Harry was sitting at the round kitchen table in Andromeda’s house, starring at the little pile of presents he got for Draco, unsure how to proceed. And the clock was ticking. He knew on the other end of this conversation a pink-haired man was eagerly awaiting his response. Draco had reached out (if you consider a Howler reaching out) twice already after Harry had screwed up so it was definitely his time to do something, to send a meaningful gesture. If he only knew how to handle such a situation.

Teddy, sitting opposite of him, had found his own way to contribute to the whole drama. He was eagerly drawing a picture of himself as the idea of having a cousin he did not know personally drove him crazy. Cousin Draco had to know how Teddy looked like. Meanwhile Harry let his gaze switch between the boxes of sweets, the perfume, the ridiculously expensive scarf and the dark pullover he had bought. All things he imagined Draco might like them but was insecure if they were to personal.

His fingers traced along the black and silver he had also gotten. It’s simple but intricate design had reminded him of Draco quite a lot. Maybe this was the right idea. He searched for a clean piece of parchment and wrote what got into his mind.

_I don’t know if you believe me when I say I didn’t want this to happen, I really just wanted to help you because you are fantastic._ He stopped writing for a moment, but then added _at your job. For once I thought my name was good for something. I am so deeply sorry. Please accept this gift as a first peace offering. You have every reason to be mad at me and maybe you could use this pen to write every curse word you have for me down so you won’t forget any if you ever feel like meeting me again._

_P.S.: Teddy insisted on sending you a picture of himself._

He did not expect an answer at all and therefore the carefully folded letter appearing on his doorstep without the trace of any owl took him by surprise. The thick parchment felt heavy in his hands and he would have wondered who sent it were it not for the dark green wax seal closing it. The intricate design featured the letters _DM_ surrounded by a very classy flower background. A smirk stole itself onto Harry’s face as he unfolded the sheet of paper, carefully trying not to break the seal. One could say this way of messaging was pretentious but it was so Malfoy-style he found it kind of adorable.

_Potter,_

His name covered one third of the parchment already, the first letter of his last name spelled unnecessarily huge in the elegant handwriting. For a moment the smirk left his face as he noticed they seemed to be back at last names but he had to admit Draco had any reason to distance himself. Maybe his goal should be to send presents as long as it took to be ‘Harry’ once again.

_I have to assume someone helped you with the choice of my first present._

He had to grin again. Of course, Draco would imply there had to be more presents to come in the future.

_I have to admit I was rather intrigued by your choice. Even thought none of my minions is willing to admit it was one of them who hinted to you I still take great pleasure from writing letters per hand and therefore enjoy your elegant as well as practical present quite a lot. I therefore thought it to be fitting to express my acceptance _(not gratitude Harry noticed still grinning in amusement over the pretentious choice of words)_ of this first _(there it was again, ‘first’)_ gift this way. Go on and continue to impress me._

_Sincerely,_

_D.M._

_P.S.: Letting my cousin aid you is unfair and as much as I enjoyed the skilful drawing and you have to tell him I am impressed by his talent, this does not count, Harry!_

The last few lines made his heart jump a bit. If arguing with Draco always went like this, he would be glad. Not that he intended on hurting the other man any further. And in the side note he was ‘Harry’. He went to work eagerly thinking about what to send to Draco next to please the disgruntled dragon.


	20. Chapter 20

_Mr. Potter,_

_I accept the gifted cologne, assuming you tried to match my choice. The pick is rather close to my brand and I am willing to try it out._

_Sincerely,_

  1. _ Malfoy_

_~_

_Dear Harry Potter,_

_You seem to have really put thought into what to buy me. The very beautiful edition of ‘The Art of Drinking Through the Centuries’ will be given an exquisite place in my house bar. Thank you for the thoughtful choice. I appreciate your decision to resign from sending anything magical. I must admit I am rather fed up with wizarding society._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_~_

_Dear Harry,_

_As much as I appreciate your efforts, the sheer costs of this one are outrageous. Seriously, who buys a friend expensive pieces of clothing? Thank you very much, as it is a present, I will gladly accept it but you can stop sending presents. You are forgiven. And of course, the pullover suits me very well, look at me, everything pricy seems to be tailored for me. Great choice, I will even consider wearing it outside._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

_P.S.: I really appreciate you checking the material in terms animal welfare and sustainability. I do not know if you generally are a person who considers such things important or if it is because of me but you doing it anyhow made me a bit happier in my misery. _

_~_

_Harry,_

_You know how much I like the whole button-message-thing. This one was hilarious and I can tell you Pansy is considering to get into mass production. Not only your ‘Potter is a self-observed bastard’ but ‘Potter buys everything with his name’ or ‘Potter does not think’. However, I am sorry to tell you we cannot meet up for coffee this weekend. I am rather busy._

_Draco._

Harry honestly simply did not know what to make of that. In the past he had never received a ‘no’, at least not without an alternative date or activity. Somehow, he had assumed Draco would simply tell him to stop acting weird and simply come over. Which he had not.

Blowing a frustrated big breath out of his nose Harry looked around in Grimmauld Place. Before hanging around his new group of friends he had never realized how huge an empty house could feel like, how lonely indeed it was. He had tried more than once to envision this dark place as a home, at least for some people in the past. Looking at the heavy tapestry on the walls, it was hard to imagine this had even been a home to a family. Still he knew for a long time the black family used to meet up here regularly.

Some part of him desperately wished Draco would one day casually swing by to tell him how he spent lazy Sunday afternoons playing in the garden and the big rooms on the top floor. Stories of how a little, mischievous boys once wandered through these halls and played tricks on his family. But somehow Harry knew, this would never happen. When Draco was born this house had already had it’s fair share of history and the resistance used to live here.

He was positive, Draco, son of a high-ranking Death Eater was most certainly not allowed to visit his uncle Sirius to meet the Order of the Phoenix.

This house had not been a place for laughter and bantering for a very long time. Only when Teddy swung by (because somehow the little boy loved spending time in this house – maybe it was the black blood which kept drawing him towards strange and gloomy places) it seemed to fill with life for a tiny bit.

The apartment felt so different compared to his own place. This was one reason he actually preferred spending his days off there. The other one obviously was Draco. Well, not only Draco but all three of them. They somehow managed to live their own live on their terms and they seemed to enjoy it quite much. Harry still could not understand how they managed to hide their true selves from the Wizarding World but it seemed to be something along “having learnt what side of yourself to show in which situation, making people see the version of yourself they would expect”. At least this was what Astoria had told him after a few more drinks.

They had of course stayed in contact while Harry was trying to impress the Dragon with gifts. Astoria explained to him that she would be furious if he dared to pull her into this. Also, Daphne was already fed up with her hyperenergetic sister. They had agreed to not meet in the apartment as long as Draco was angry with Harry but maybe this was over now? At least it read like that.

_15:39: Hey Tori, can I swing by?_

_15:40: Well mister, of course you can as long as you promise not to help me with my job ;P_

_15:41: But just to let you know, the Dragon is not in its lair. _


	21. Chapter 8: He cannot stand cowards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long delay! I am forced to work from home and somehow I totally got used to writing solemly when I was taking a train. And secondly, I share my office with two attention loving bunnies. Try to resist them, I dare you

#  **Chapter 8: He cannot stand cowards**

The following two weeks Harry mainly spent doing one of those three things:

  * Visiting Astoria even though she always told him beforehand that Draco would not be there. He still managed to feel slightly disappointed when the pink-haired man really would not show up. Astoria very well knew he just used her as an excuse in order to bump into Draco therefore she made sure she did not tell him, her roommate would be staying at his mother’s place for at least a month. In the end she still was a Slytherin and tried to make the best out of a situation.
  * Sulking about how bad he felt Draco did not want to see him anymore in front of Hermione. Who had to take several deep breaths before explaining to him that his stalker-like behaviour might be one of the reasons Draco refused to meet up. She even managed not to tell him he acted like they were back in the Great Hall, Harry glancing over the tables in order to find out what his ‘arch-nemesis’ was up to. Today she was wondering if maybe, just maybe Harry had just simply always been drawn towards the other man?
  * Trying to be as witty and charming as possible while texting Draco hoping for a reply. Which he luckily always got. Not on the important questions, but still. As long as Harry stuck to such topics as what book he was currently reading or if he enjoyed the last few warm days of this autumn, he was sure to get rewarded by paragraph-long answers and a lot of sass. Unfortunately, Draco still refused to meet up and rejected every invitation as polite as possible.

Which brings us to the morning that Harry would later often refer to as the moment he knew he had to do something if he wanted to win Draco’s heart. If you asked Draco on that matter he would smirk lazily and explain he did it simply to be presentable in society again, not to force Harry into action. But if you looked closely you would notice that not a single time they were asked about this incident, Draco managed to not look at Harry with this loving expression in his eyes that makes his knees weak until today.

In order to understand what genius Draco did that day we have to get next to Harry right at the breakfast table where an issue of “Witch Weekly” seemed to appear out of nowhere, attached to it a little post-it.

_I guess that means, you are still in the game. Your turn, Potter – _Astoria had written on the small sheet of paper marking a page-long feature in Draco, including all of his fast flings.

Harry’s eyes wandered from pictures of Draco together with Oliver Wood over to Blaise Zabini and other men accompanying him to various events. All had in common that the stood a bit too close to the other man while their picture had been taken and all of them made sure their outfits would match. In none of them Draco was actually smiling, even though his face clearly showed a self-confident expression. Oh, he somehow did not like where this was going.

_ Meeting the Private Draco Malfoy _

_ _

The headline sprung into his eyes and for a very brief moment Harry was wondering if this meant, Draco would give away the secret of his actual private life and how muggle he had become. But then he looked at the pictures once again. None of them featured any of the beautiful tattoos or traces of muggle clothing. Still curious he began reading.

_After the rather scandalous article on Mr. Malfoy’s connection to our hero, Harry Potter, the young aristocrat had refused to give any statement to the press and withdrawn to the Manor for the last couple of weeks. With great pleasure we can announce that we had the chance to meet up with him for his first interview on this matter and his private life in general._

_Our meeting takes place in the enchanted gardens of Malfoy Manor, surrounded by beautifully arranged late blooming flowers and the world famous white peacocks. Mr. Malfoy is dressed in a very tasteful silver grey robe and over a cup of finest tea willing to spill it._

_Mr. Malfoy, is it true that you and Mr. Potter are in contact:_

Thank you for coming straight to the point. Indeed, Harry Potter and I have been meeting up regularly over the past months. It was him who after the war generously offered to make peace, something I gladfully accepted.

_Did you at any time mention you work towards Mr. Potter and ask him for help?_

As we are two adults which both happen to work in a similar field, of course, my work has been mentioned. But never would I have dared to ask Harry Potter for help. I have to assume his offer was out of pure charitability and the reason he did not inform me about his doing was because he did not want to put me into the position he unintentionally did in the end as the Prophet tried to portray me.

_So, you mean there is no sexual or romantic relationship between you and Mr. Potter?_


	22. Chapter 22

I am not willing to speak on behalf of Mister Potter concerning his relationship status with any person on this planet but I would like to kindly remind you of my statement on this manner that I have given your newspaper before: I am not now or ever in the future willing to again date someone who is not out. This does not mean I am implying anything about Harry Potter’s sexuality – this is none of my business! However, my previous experiences with closeted man have taught me that this is not a way I see myself leading anything interpersonal relationship with someone who is not willing to be seen with me in public.

Harry had to stop reading at this point. Well, this was not that bad, was it? One could read it like Draco was only trying to protect him and that was a good thing, wasn’t it? Unfortunately, we all know our favourite Gryffindor has always had a hard time accepting people deciding what was good for him over his head. Maybe, a tiny little voice in his head told him, he had secretly hoped Draco would simply out him so he would not have to do this by himself.

Shaking his head with a deep sight he continued reading the article.

_At this point we hope all of our readers will understand that we had to take this one-time chance of digging deeper into Mr. Malfoy’s previous experiences with closeted men and former lovers._

_This very much sounds as if you have already made bad experiences with such men. Do you mind telling us a bit more about that? Of course, as discrete as possible…_

Well I would most certainly lie if I told you all of my former flings – I would definitely not call them relationships – were rather problematic. You of course will understand that I cannot and absolutely am not willing to give away any names but there have been man, who were officially in very happy relationships, making efforts to hook up with me not only once. As I am a man of – even very doubtful – moral standards I of course refused such invitations. But even I have to admit to have been fooled not only once but twice by men who secretly dated me and also had a relationship with a woman at the same time.

_Draco Malfoy makes a dramatic pause in which he takes a sip from his tea and gives me a rather mischievous smirk and winks at me in a manner I am absolutely sure no man could have resisted him._

I am almost proud of the collection of angry letters calling me the worst of names. Not only from girlfriend but also mothers, close family friends and even concerned siblings. This might be the reason I decided to stop dating at all.

_Is there no chance you would be willing to make an exception at all?_

Well why would one make rules if they did not leave room for exceptions. If I will be every willing to date someone again I for sure will let this person know personally.

_With this remark we leave Draco Malfoy alone again, knowing that indeed there is nothing going on between him and Harry Potter. Still, we keep wondering if there could maybe still be a special someone this last comment had been directed to…_

Harry put away the newspaper wondering as well. One could read this as a sign or was he delusional? A few moments he got the answer in form of a text message.

_9:26: Have you read my witty yet charming statement? This should settle the rumours for a while now. So, what about the coffee you asked me for the last few times. Care to swing by at my place?_

Believe me it would not be an exaggeration if I told you Harry was ready to go and grabbing his keys only a minute after receiving this message. Finally!


	23. Chapter 23

When he arrived at the apartment about half an hour later, Draco somehow already managed to stand inside the open door, coyishly smiling at him and Harry had a hard time resisting the urge to simply kiss the other man on the spot. Instead they greeted each other awkwardly without touching. Draco looked a bit tired but nevertheless breathtakingly handsome in a simple long sleeve shirt and stylish fabric pants. His hair was loosely combed back and a few strands hung into his face. Harry had stopped asking himself how someone could look so good without any effort a long time ago.

They settled on the couch in the living room and desperately looked at anything else but each other. The tension in the air had almost become unbearable when Harry finally managed to start a conversation.

“So, you stayed at the Manor for the last few days?”, he carefully asked, searching Draco’s face for the tiniest bit of a reaction, wondering if he had missed him as much as he did himself. He really hoped to read some sort of mutual feelings from the way Draco moved his lips while answering.

“Well, you can imagine Mother’s reaction to the article. She was quite upset and had a lot of questions concerning my private life therefor I thought it best if I simply went straight to her and explained the whole situation.”

Unfortunately, Draco behaved just as usual and there was no hint on his face, that would have given any away any of his feelings so Harry decided he had to dig deeper.

“Would it be so bad for her if you actually were involved with me?”

He knew this question sounded provocative and was curious about the reaction.

Draco raised an eyebrow and faced him, an unreadable expression in his eyes. A mixture of amusement, disbelieve and something that turned the grey of his eyes into a stormy, liquid sensation.

“Oh, quite on the contrary. Mother would love to announce the two of us were dating or at least fucking.” The expression coming from his lips sounded vulgar and tempting at the same time. “However, I calmly explained to her that neither of this was the case. I mean, you are not even sure if you are into men at all, despite I would definitely not be a suitable option at all.”

“What do you mean with that?”, Harry asked, wonder as well as a little hurt swinging in his voice.

“Well, as far as I know your experience with men only goes as far as kissing a random bloke and snogging me to get rid of another one. Therefore, I assume you are experimenting in a safe space right now. You were also kissing Astoria so who should know. In addition, you were a bit intoxicated in those situations. Alcohol makes us do things our sober mind would protect us from.”

Harry patiently waited for him to finish as he knew how much Draco hated to be interrupted before answering: “This is not what I meant, and you very well know that! And just for your information my wanking fantasies and wet dreams in the weeks since we were hanging around clearly indicate that I am indeed very gay!”

He could do nothing else but raise his voice in this situation. Why was Draco giving him such a hard time and did not believe he was gay? This again reminded him so much of the teasing and provocations they had during school. He knew he had to stay calm but boy, did he want to shake Draco right now!

“Fantasies, hm? How interesting,” the other man said, leaning in closer and licking his lips playfully. “Was it about the tall blond one? Is he your type?”

Again, that git managed to get him all wrong. Harry helplessly stared at those thin, bright lips, torn between frustration and desire. Did Draco know how sinful he looked right now; lips slightly parted? Was this part of their usual game or an invitation?

Instead of an answer, Harry decided to do what he was best at: Listening to his guts.

He leant in and grabbed the back of Draco’s head, gently but certainly pulling the other man towards himself. The words that tried to escape his mouth only turned out as mumbles as Harry already captured those seductive lips with his own. The feeling, the smell, all of it was even better than he remembered and all of a sudden, he indeed felt quite intoxicated. The earthy and sweet scent of Draco’s skin immediately made its way from his nose inside his body and turned his bones into a soft mess. His skin burnt where their lips touched and he teasingly pushed a bit more only to be rewarded with the tiniest and best noise he had every heard in his life so far.

Draco could do nothing else but give away something that sounded like a mixture of surprise and a tiny bit of a moan. He had to open his mouth for the sound to escape and Harry used his chance, conquering the unknown territory with his own tongue, exploring the sweet sensation of the other man’s mouth. He was not instantly rewarded with a reaction but he could feel, Draco had shifted his upper body back a bit, now supporting both of them with his elbows on the couch. Trusting his instincts, Harry shifted his bodyweight as well and he could sense Draco below himself.

This was the moment, the pink-haired seemed to have decided to finally do something himself as surprisingly cool and skinny fingers almost forcefully wrapped around Harry’s neck, pushing him even close. Their tongues started the sweetest of fights and Harry felt the goose bumps on his skin where the long fingers traced irregular patterns, driving him nuts.

He let go of Draco’s neck and brushed the loose stands away from the face behind the ear, caressing his cheek with his palm for a moment. From there on his hand moved along the sides of the other man’s torso, feeling the bones and muscles under the soft fabric. As well as a sweet shuddering under his breath. More, more, more! He wanted so much more of this. How on earth could he ever do anything else again that did not imply touching Draco.

Encouraged by strong fingertips digging into his skin he let his hand continue the exploration until finally, he spotted a bare patch of delicate skin under his touch. Testing, he moved his fingernails across it. Draco reacted in the most beautiful way as he pulled away his face from the kiss, letting out a sinfully pleased moan, opening his eyes once more.

Unmoving they stayed like this for a few more moments, foreheads pressed against each other, panting, most of their bodies still touching, before Draco managed to spit out “you are making this so hard for me” in a very rough voice, arousal swinging in every syllable as well as the tiny breaks in between the words.

Harry understood the signal, detaching himself from the other man even though he would have loved to continue on the spot but maybe it was more important now to talk.


	24. Chapter 24

Imagine just having stopped snogging the person you desired the most, uncertain how to move on from there. Thousands of unspoken words in the air, promises, excuses, stupid jokes but none of them leaves your dry mouth as you just look into those grey eyes opposite of you, an open question in them.

Harry most certainly did not know how to move on from there. He had never been good with words. Actions were his thing but…he had already made his move and now something had to come. Something to diffuse the situation. Something like Draco telling him he liked him. Our favourite Gryffindor had his hopes high for a happy ending to happen there on the spot.

“Potter”, Draco started a sentence which already sounded so wrong. Harry’s heart stopped racing in his chest for a second. An icy lump formed in his stomach. This was not good; this definitely was not good.

“Harry”, the pink-haired man started all over again, avoid eye contact while brushing back the stubborn strands. His voice had taken a softer tone, almost caressing the name his lips formed but wrapping them into a certain sadness.

“I know you like this whole idea of snogging me senseless in hidden corners, kissing me in secret and exploring a male body for the first time without having to fear anyone will know but I cannot do this.”

Without looking up he sat up on the couch and therefore added more distance between them.

“I have been there. I cannot do this again. Even I am not willing to be the one in the shadows anymore.”

Harry gulped hard before replying.

“But I don’t ask you to. Can’t we for one moment stop thinking about what will happen in the future and live now? I mean there is something between you and me!”

This was the moment Draco forced himself to look up again and give Harry a smile so soft and sad his heart almost immediately broke.

“Of course, there is something. For me there has always been something. But this is the reason I cannot do this. Even if you were willing to be with me, this would not end up well for me.”

He stood up from his chair and leaned towards an unmoving Harry, his arms so close our golden boy was forced to look at the Dark Mark, study the intricate lines of the tattoo revolving around it. In the centre, everything was dark and his eyes had a hard time finding a path to follow which would lead to the light.

“If you were anyone else in the world I would maybe reconsider because”, Soft fingertips were brushing over his cheek and he wanted to lean in. They were already gone after a second, “I would hopelessly fall for you.”

The other body moved away slowly and all that remain was the lingering scent of a promise which never fulfilled. Draco had gone towards the kitchen, making the space between them bigger.

“But we are who we are and therefore can’t be anyone else.”

He smiled lazily while starting to mix a drink they would share while talking about anything else but their feelings. Harry knew he would leave after this drink and again not return to the apartment for a long time.


	25. Chapter nine: He is not the guy for great gestures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are only a few chapters away from the ending, time to finally get Harry going! You go boy, fight for your Draco!

# Chapter nine: He is not the guy for great gestures

“Harry, darling, you can’t be serious!”

Andromeda was pacing through the kitchen of Grimaud place restlessly, disbelief shining through her eyes while she let her gaze wander from Harry to his surroundings and back again. They had been here for at least fifteen minutes unable to agree on the topic. This was something he somehow had expected. Stubbornness ran in the Black family. Sirius had not been any different and neither was Teddy. Or Draco. Whom indirectly was the topic of their disagreement.

“You really want to send your own godchild into that snake pit?”

He could not help but smile at the comparison of the Malfoy family manor to a literal snake pit. A few years ago, he would have definitely agreed with her but now things tended to be different. He was different, the world indeed was different, not so much black and white, god and evil.

“Andromeda, they are his family as well, he only one he has except for us and he keeps asking about them. Do you really want him to never meet them?”

He let his elbows rest on the kitchen counter behind him, looking at her provocatively. He very well knew with mentioning family he hit a nerve. On one or two occasions Andromeda had already turned a bit sentimental and admitted missing her one remaining sister.

With fury in her eyes she quickly walked in front of him, drilling her long finger into his chest.

“Because you told him about Draco! About how much they had in common and how great it would be if they met! You basically made the decision for him!”, she exclaimed more than angry. And she said exactly what he expected her to.

“I see no difference to what you did. You basically decided he was not to meet the rest od his family. You did not let him choose either!”

By the look in her face he knew, he almost got her. He had to play his cards well now.

“I grew up without knowing about my family and it would have meant the world to me if I had a living relative. Any you are refusing him this chance?”

She gave away a deep sigh. Lowered her finger as well as her shoulders in defeat. Her left eyebrow was still twitching when she turned on her heel and stomped away, mumbling more towards herself than him: “Fine, but I will go with him – just in case!”


	26. Chapter 26

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I must admit that I am more than surprised to hear from you personally. Even more unexpected is the matter of your correspondence. Be assured that I am very well aware of the existence of Theodore Lupin and his relation towards my family. _

_Of course, there is no reason speaking against a visit at the Mansion from my point of view. _

_Please do me a favour and do not put upon me the knowledge of how you convinced my sister of this idea, I might not agree with your methods._

_From this point on I will discuss every further detail with my sister personally but your help is greatly appreciated._

_Sincerely,_

_N.M._

The letter arriving via owl the next day was written with dark black ink on what looked like hand-made parchment and sealed with the Malfoy family emblem. Harry smiled when he read the short snub on how this was family business but not his own. Draco had obviously inherited his writing style from his mother.

~

Exactly five days later at around 6.30 pm, which was a Saturday (which is important to know because it would have been one of the Saturdays Teddy normally spent with Harry), Teddy firecalled his godfather, some thing he only was allowed to do when he got so excited he would refuse to go to sleep for hours if he could not tell Harry every detail of his adventures.

He sat in front of the fireplace – if you consider a five-year-old shifting from his knees to his bum without any rest ‘sitting’ and grinned at Harry. The expression on his face reminded the elder so much of his own god father, he could not help but feel a short pain in his chest, the feeling of being reminded that there is someone missing from your life and it still hurts when you remember them. For the first time however, Harry managed to not only see Sirius in the boy but also a hint of Draco. Maybe it was the self-confidence that seemed to be running in the family.

“Harry, I just came back from the giganticest house in the world. It was so huge and there were peacocks and gardens and flowers and we had tea, like real tea – not the sweet kind Granny always serves and Auntie Narcissa was there and she is sooooo pretty. Like a flower. Not that Granny is not pretty as well but Auntie is more pretty like a fairy and Granny is a sunflower. And we had so much fun. We even played hide and seek in the mansion. And I was such a good boy Auntie invited me back any time I want! See, it was a great idea and maybe next time Cousin Draco will be there, too! And maybe I want everyone to call me Theodore from now on!”

Harry was certain, Teddy had not stopped to breath once while telling him all of this. He wanted to start a reply when the little boy turned to someone obviously sitting to his right and said “I am done, I’ll brush my teeth now Granny” and went out of the frame.

His face was replaced by the familiar features of Andromeda, shaking her head in disbelief over her own grandson before turning her attention towards Harry.

“You were right, the boy needs every bit of family he can get. And so does my sister. I cannot believe what I’m about to say but thank you for forcing me into that. Maybe it was time to let the past finally become the past.”

She did not even give him the chance to reply before extinguishing the fire but the faint traces of her smile transmitted to his face. That finally sounded like a good start.


	27. Chapter 27

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I have to admit I am more than impressed with what you did to your Godson. I am right to assume Theodore was given to your custody, am I not?_

_The boy is a pure pleasure to be around. He seems to enjoy everything and shows great interest and affection towards the wonders of the world. It has been a long time since someone wandered through the gardens of the Manor to simply enjoy the sheer beauty of it. Having someone around reminding you of the good things in life is something so precious I almost forgot about it._

_Young Theodore indeed has a lot in common with my boy Draco when he was at his age. It is the same capability to suck in beauty and by sharing their amazement lighten up the day for everyone around them._

_I cannot thank you enough for giving me this great opportunity to experience having a child around me once again. I do not dare to ask you to repeat your generous favour again but you should know Theodore is welcome at the Manor anytime – of course under your conditions._

_I think it would be nice for him to meet my son in person, maybe Draco would enjoy the company of someone who does not only see his past in him as well. _

_I can absolutely understand if this was only a one-time chance or if you do not want your Godson to be left in the hands of the Malfoy family unsupervised. Also, I am not sure if my sister is willing to sacrifice more of her time in my company as absolutely necessary. Therefore, you as his Godfather would be welcome to accompany him for protection purpose to any kind of meeting as well._

_ I am grateful for the moment of bliss you have granted me and I do absolutely understand if this plea will be left unanswered but just know there will always be a place at our table for Theodore._

_All the best,_

_Narcissa M._

Harry smiled when he had finished reading the letter. Truly, when it came to writing, Draco must have learnt more than one or two things from his mother. He genuinely felt happy for her as well as Teddy as they obviously seemed to like each other very much. Maybe Draco would feel the same. It took him quite a while to find a clean, fresh piece of parchment and a quilt to write back but he decided to keep his answer short and simple. The Malfoys might be a family of big words, he certainly was not.

_Dear Mrs. Malfoy,_

_Teddy already told me how much fun he had and that he wants to visit you again and maybe meet his cousin. I will not be the guy to interrupt therefore for me it would be totally fine to share my Saturday afternoons with him with you from now on. _

_And as much as I appreciate your offer, I don’t think Teddy needs me there. I trust you to take care of a little boy, you already raised a great son._

_So, let me know when I will send him to you the next time._

_I am glad I could make you happy._

_Harry._


	28. Chapter 28

“Are you really sure you want to do that?”, Hermione asked him for the hundredths time. Her left eyebrow was twitching as it always did when she gave him **that** look. You know what I mean, the one where she is astonished about how someone could be so brave and inconsiderate rushing into a situation at the same time. He could see her inner struggle, her wanting to tell him it was a terrible idea, by the way her bottom lip did not quite reach the upper one. She was trying hard to be a good friend right now and he appreciated it.

~

Ron did not share her doubts as usual. For him that was just the _Harry-thing_ to do. However, he had a favour to ask his best friend before fulfilling his plan. A big one. One, Harry knew he should have come up with without having to be told to. He had almost forgotten a conversation he definitely owed someone.

~

Ginny was as pretty as always, her read hair radiating with sunlight, her sun-kissed forearms covered with the most beautiful set of freckles. She watched him curiously from over the tip of her mug. Her fingers curled around the yellow piece of porcelain as naturally as she fit into his kitchen. Her presence here made so much sense that for a moment Harry had no words but simply missed the time when she would be spending her nights here.

But something inside Harry knew it was just his desire to keep things easy and the blurring of memories that told him everything would be so much better with Ginny around once again. The bittersweet tugging in his heart was the one of longing for a memory not a possibility. He even felt ashamed noticing how little this feeling revolved around Ginny herself but centred on having a part of his family around him. Maybe Ron was right and he would have dated any Weasley – just to be with them.

But Ginny deserved better. She deserved love. And this was what he told her.

At first it was only him talking. Soon, he began to brabble and search for words. As always, she helped him out by asking just the right sort of questions. She was so much better at this stuff. After a while he had nothing more to say and starred at the empty space on the kitchen table between them.

Of course, it was her who grabbed his hand, caressed it and made him look at her. She was so strong, even with tears in his eyes. They looked at each other for a long time without saying anything. In the end they hugged goodbye and she whispered into his ear.

“Thank you for telling me, that was very brave of you. Thank you, I think I needed this for closure.”

And then she was gone, only the sweet scent of her hair lingering around for a few more moments and in the end, it was him crying. Maybe he had needed to tell her to find closure, too - to start something new.


	29. Chapter 29

Some conversations become especially had when you have to have them with your mother. Or someone who is like a mother to you. In Harry’s case this would be Molly Weasley, the woman who brought him to the train on his first year at Hogwarts, the person sending him Christmas gifts every year, the one human being whose anger would always scare him to death. For a long time, Harry had argued with himself that he could not simply replace his real mother with the head of the Weasley house (I am sorry Arthur, but we all know this is true!) but finally he had come to a conclusion: One could feel towards more than one person like they were your mother. It was not blood binding them but the love only a mother could have for her children.

Still, telling her scared her maybe the most. Maybe even more than telling Ginny.

Which was silly because it was not the first time Molly ever hear such a thing.

And she had been fine with it. She did not care with her other son so why should it be different with him?

Maybe, because he used to date her only daughter. Maybe, because he would not marry into her family in the end. Maybe, because this would be the point both had to realize they would never officially become a family.

Fumbling with the fabric of his boxy old pair of jeans, he was sitting in her kitchen – the place he maybe loved the most in the world (except for Draco’s couch!) – unable to look her in the eye while he was searching for words. It had been hard enough to ask her to meet up, this seemed close to impossible. He definitely did not know how to start.

“Harry darling,” she started, settling close to him, “you can tell me anything you need to, don’t worry. It will be alright.”

Her hands brushed over his hair and he could hear the smile in her voice. She tried to make it so easy for him, why was he such a coward?

“Love, don’t treat yourself too harsh. Charlie could not talk to me about it for a year because he was so scared, I would refuse him. I don’t want any member of my family to ever feel like they could not tell me something so important, ever again.”

He blinked at her surprised and opened his mouth: “You know? But-how?”

She smiled and removed her hand from his head, placing it under her chin, waiting for him to continue. When he did not, she simply asked: “There is a special someone, right?” and Harry nodded.

“You don’t have to tell me who he is but my boy, I think it would help you a lot to say it out loud, get it out of the system.”

Harry took a deep breath, his hands still shaking and then looked her in the eyes:

“I am gay! And I think I am in love.”

Her smile warmed up even more – if this was possible and she reached for his hands, pride shimmering in her eyes. And she was right. A giant bolder fell from his heart and he could finally breath. There was only one person left to tell.


	30. Chapter 30

Andromeda handed him a mug – his favourite one of course, the one with the chipped rim she originally wanted to throw away ages ago but he insisted on keeping. Of course, it was his favourite tea as well – a rather boring blend of black tea and cinnamon which always somehow reminded him of the Gryffindor common room and times where his life felt easier (even despite a maniac dark wizard trying to kill him and the world expecting wonders from a small boy).

Where Ron and Hermione, Ginny, Molly, the Weasleys were something he shared with the world, his relationship to Andromeda was different. It was somehow more private, something only he had and he treasured it. They had more in common than to be seen at first glance. Both were known with a name to big for them to burden at times of their lives. Both had lost their loved ones and both from time to time fell back in this dark place where grief tried to consume them completely.

And both had Teddy in their lives.

Harry loved both of them if love was an expression fitting to describe the range of emotions. He was so proud of how they managed to keep up, impressed by how they made things work, amazed by ideas and projects they did, fascinated with how they worked as a functioning family and most importantly glad to have them.

Maybe this was why he had decided to tell Andromeda last. Because she had to know the full truth as well as it would hurt her the most.

Interestingly, Harry noticed he was not as scared as he expected. Indeed, he was rather calm when he told her he was gay. She simply nodded and carelessly mentioned that she had expected same as when Sirius had told her. Harry’s raised eyebrow she read as indicator that he indeed did not know. Therefore, she told him a story about his Godfather he indeed had never heard of.

“Oh my, for Sirius it was hard to be out, especially in his own family. The rest of the world did not care much but his brother – how mad he was at him. You know that he always had a hard time with his family but he never even dreamt of them accepting him. This was why he only told me about his relationship with Remus back then.”

Harry almost spit out his tea, eyes wide open. But before he could say anything, she read his mind and continued.

“I know what you are thinking. And no, Remus was not gay, he was simply in love with Sirius and they both were fine with it. They were gorgeous together and it took Remus ages to get over him. In the end he managed to fall in love with my beloved Nymphodora and I could not have been happier with the partner she chose. You know, Remus has always been dear to me.”


	31. Chapter 31

With a reassuring smile she turned towards him, waiting for his reaction. Harry still didn’t know what to say or how to proceed with this new information. Why did she tell him?

“Well you see,” she began, taking a seat next to him but looking in the distance, “there is not only black and white out there. Sometimes you cannot be sure if you are only one thing or the other or if you are attracted to only one gender or –“ She moved her gaze towards him, facing him directly now and he knew he had to keep eye contact as she was searching for an answer in his look.

“Sometimes we simply fall for someone,” she finished her thought, still searching for an answer in his eyes. “Is there someone who made you reconsider your sexuality, dear? Do you have a special someone?”

Harry reached for her hand but stopped before they touched. This was were the hard part was starting. He took another deep breath and looked down at their hands almost touching.

“Yes, I think so. It is not that we are a thing. He told me we could never be – not when I was not out, not when it meant hiding. And I still don’t know if we can ever be but I think I am – no, I am certain I am in love with him.”

Andromeda’s hand reached for his, gently brushing over the top of his, encouraging him.

“And now you are afraid to tell me because you don’t think I will like your choice?”

He simply nodded.

“Oh, Harry my dear, whomever it is, it’s whom your heart chose, not mine. I understand if you don’t want to tell me now but be sure I will accept them.”

Harry looked up into her loving face and wondered if she already knew. 

“It’s Draco,” he simply told her, not letting go of her hand. He felt the twitch, the short moment of struggling when the weight of this information reached her brain. He saw so many thoughts running through her head; anger, disbelieve, sadness, wonder, fear, understanding but in the end, it was a soft expression that settled.

“This comes as a surprise after all – after all that history you share. All you did, he did – all the war. But I am certain there is a reason why you feel like you feel today. I mean people can change. And if I can believe my sister can overcome her darkness and be a part of my family again then of course her son, who had been nothing but a child during war, can become a man worthy of being loved by you.”

Her grip around his hand grew stronger, as if to reassure him everything was going to be fine.

“But tell me, Harry, why did you decide to tell me now?”

And so, he did tell her about what he was planning on doing and why he wanted her to know beforehand. She nodded and instead of telling him off like Hermione even encouraged him to do so, telling him this sounded so much like something her children (and maybe she not only meant Tonks but Remus and Sirius as well) would have done. When he started to explain to her how much Draco had changed however, she cut him off.

“One step after the other, my boy, first do what you must to show him you mean it and when you figured out all of it you can just bring him here and properly introduce my nephew to me – if you feel like you still should.”

With a light heart Harry left this conversation, reassured on what he was planning on doing the next day. An entrance worthy and dramatic enough to convince Draco Malfoy himself, he, Harry Potter, was not hiding anymore.


	32. Chapter 32

For the at least twelfth time in a row, Harry was looking at himself in the mirror, fixing yet another stubborn strand of hair and practicing a serious look. To call his emotional status nervous would have been more than an underestimation. He was shaken to the bones, but let me be clear not because of what he was going to do. It was more the way he planned this to go down that scared him. Maybe this was why he had decided to spent such a huge amount of time on his looks. He was dressed to kill from his brand-new dress shoes over to his for once well-fitting pair of dark jeans paired with a simple white-collar shirt and a matching grey vest. Even his socks and belt were hand selected (not by himself but by the stylist he had asked for help, the one also responsible for his new haircut and styling).

He looked like the advertisement of a man you would love to introduce to your parents as well as pull into a dark corner and snog senseless at the same time and for the first time in his life he could understand why for some people their clothes were their armour. He felt strong and confident, knowing he was looking his best.

There would be enough to talk about for the world in a few minutes, his outer appearance should not be one of them he had decided beforehand. With a last glance to his mirror-self (whom he could have sworn was winking back!) he turned around.

“I am ready, let’s do this.”

Since his return to the wizarding world at the age of only 11 the press had always been trying to get as much information from Harry Potter as possible. During the first years it was due to Dumbledore’s authority that he was not run over by reporters wanting interviews. Later, his friends and the Order of the Phoenix helped him hiding from the press and after the war it was Ginny who took over most of the public work for him. Normally he would simply kindly refuse to give any interviews or such a thing at all.

Therefore, it was quite a shock when he publicly announced a press conference in which he wanted to finally state his reasons behind the breakup with his former girlfriend and “put an end to the rumours concerning my sexuality” as he had written to all the large papers. That was Hermione’s wording by the way.

And there he stood, Harry Potter, hero of the Wizarding World, heartthrob of hundreds of young witches and wizards looking maybe the best he had ever done, all by himself while dozens of eyes were watching him, curious of what he was going to say.

Luckily, he had prepared himself for this moment of speechless fear by writing down what he was going to say word by word and again with the help of not only Hermione but also Andromeda (Luna he could not ask because that would have been unfair to other magazines). He reached for the sheet of paper in front of him and began reading, paying no attention to the people starring at him.

“Most of us are hiding something, a secret they do not want the public to know. Maybe because they are ashamed, scared, they do not want to feel vulnerable. Maybe because they think their voice is not important or that they are alone. That they are different and not important. That there are things one does not talk about. Maybe they are simply insecure.

I was for a long time. I still am from time to time because this all feels very new to me. But I am certain now that I am fed up with hiding. I am not ashamed for who I am and I had enough of people assuming something about me therefore I decided to come here today to tell you the truth about me.

I don’t know if anyone did not witness my breakup with Ginny Weasley or that I never addressed the matter publicly – I honestly have never addressed anything concerning my private life in front of so many people to be honest. However, I decided now is the time.

It took me a while to figure out what to say but as I tend to not find the right words, I decided to make it as quick as possible: I, Harry Potter, am gay and I am not ashamed of it. I think we live in a society where we have overcome judging people by differences and started accepting them for who they are. So, this is me, the man I have always been. And I am not hiding anything anymore. Thank you.”

He left the stage without waiting for the questions to come for he had already planned to do an interview with Luna on the topics of partners and so on. That was something he would want someone he trusted to talk about, not a reporter who simply wanted the most scandalous version of the story.

Backstage he was greeted by his family, a lot of shoulder pads and reassuring words and for the first time in a very long while he felt free and light hearted.

When he finally returned home after hours of people talking to him and hundreds of owls directed to him, telling him how grateful young people were he was one of them and willing to come out, how inspirational he was and how much courage this might have taken him, he was glad to be by himself. What he did not expect was a single text message on his phone from a number whose owner he had missed very much over the past days.

_19:35: Well played Potter, I must say I am intrigued, that was quite a show. Chapeau. Maybe you are right and the times have changed, so no more hiding. Would you mind grabbing lunch together tomorrow? _

_19:37: Sounds great. At 12.30? Where do you want to meet up?_

_19:38: Actually, I was planning on picking you up if you do not mind._


	33. Chapter 33

Harry Potter is infamous for being wrong about certain assumptions concerning his private life. One very prominent example was him trying to find his Happily Ever After with Ginny Weasley, which was not her fault at all believe me! He was trying too hard to be something he was not. Another good call would be him really believing he would never fall for someone as extravagant as Draco Malfoy – assuming he was gay at all. But boy was he wrong. If someone had asked Harry why it was the Malfoy heir out of all people (which obviously nobody did because well it was his life in the end, so why question such a personal thing as feelings) he would have struggled to find an answer.

And not because he could not come up with any reason. In fact, it were too many so he did not know where to start. Maybe because the other man was very real, maybe because he was funny, maybe because he had grown so much as a person or his tendencies to fight his battles on his own without relying on anyone else. Maybe it was because he cared for his friends, maybe it was the save space he offered Harry, the open ear, his secret world. Or maybe it was because he was smoking hot and confident in his body – something Harry still had to learn. Maybe it was his whole attitude, his charm and self-confidence or the fact that he did not put Harry on any pedestal and put him above all other living beings but saw him as equal. Maybe it was because he exactly knew which buttons to push, where to touch him, to make him willing to do anything within mere seconds – but we are skipping ahead again.

Another thing Harry James Potter certainly was very wrong about was the maximum of nervousness his body could survive. It had been only yesterday when he was certain he could not stomach more than the anxiety of having to face dozens of press people at once while revealing such a private thing to the world as his sexuality. He guessed wrong.

A very well-deserved night sleep had been followed by way too much time in front of the mirror, speculation on what to wear to work until he remembered the stakes very high on him simply not changing out of his robes at all and therefore simply going with his usual attire. He regretted it as he had changed into his normal clothes half an hour before the arranged time and since then was stalking through his tiny office like a tiger trying to break out of his cage.

Twelve thirty they had agreed on an he was counting any minute, trying his hardest not to stress out. This was just friends meeting up. It was the ministry, what could possibly happen at all?

“I am sorry, I am a bit early, if you are not free now, I can of course wait. You seem rather occupied with leaving footprints in the floor,” an amused voice came from the door. He spun around to be left gasping.

Offering him an amused and very flirty half smile was Draco Malfoy himself. But not the usual business one with the bleach blonde hair and his formal attire. It was a very pink haired man in a tailored pants and short sleeved button-down combination looking at him. The tattoos were very visible as well as the piercings in his face.

He definitely had not expected Draco to pick him up without any Glamour.

Correctly interpreting his thoughts, the other man looked down at himself with a knowing grin.

“I hope you did not expect me to take you anywhere fancy. I thought casual clothing fitted casual lunch.”

Harry nodded, still visibly confused and only managed to mumble “you look fine” which was met with something behind Draco’s eyes softening as if he was relieved Harry did not question the reasons behind him coming without any Glamour but approving of it.

Maybe the time to hide really was over for both of them.


	34. Chapter 34

Draco suggested a small muggle café just outside Diagon Alley where they would not be recognized so easily which Harry happily agreed on as he grew annoyed with the stares the moment, they left the Ministry. Interestingly he got most of the attention and not the pink-haired man next to him. When he turned to Draco, sharing his thoughts, the other man giggled in the maybe cutest way Harry had ever seen someone do and our favourite Gryffindor once again noticed how hard he had already fallen for the former Slytherin. Mischief blinking in his eyes Draco carelessly explained to Harry that not wearing a Glamour anymore did not automatically mean people would recognize him. Harry watched him in astonishment.

“So that means you came like this because you are hidden in plain sight and nobody knows who you are?”

For a short moment he felt this tight insecurity again. Maybe he had misread the signals and Draco was still hiding as much as before. Maybe this was not him showing his true self after all but another strategy of meeting anonymous.

He luckily lost that thought a moment later when two witches crossed their path, greeting Draco by calling him his first name and politely addressing himself as “Mr. Potter” before moving on. Draco once again gave him his characteristic one-sided smile.

“Oh no, I am not hiding anymore. I really thought hard about how to top your entrance and outing to the whole Wizarding world yesterday and could not come up with anything as genius therefore I came to the conclusion to simply let the public do what they always do: Gossip.”

He moved his head into the direction in which the two witches had been going and Harry’s gaze followed only to discover them a few feet away, dedicatedly chatting about him and Draco as they were constantly looking back at them.

He turned around again to face Draco who assured him as soon as they came back everyone would know who Harry’s lunch companion was.

~

They in fact had a quite amusing time at lunch together in the comfortable little shop where no one was starring at them. His heart stopped racing and his breath slowed down when he noticed it was still the easiest thing in the world to talk to Draco about anything.

After a while Draco decided to address the elephant in the room.

“What really makes me curious is why you decided to come out in a whole press conference. I mean you always mentioned you hated giving interviews. What made you go for this option?”

There was genuine interest flickering in his eyes, overlaying something which was harder to read. A dare? Hope? His voice had the same smooth tone as usual, not displaying many emotions but Harry had known the other man for a while now to read the tinier signals, the leaning in the conversation, the rubbing together of his fingers, to understand that the answer to this question was of utter importance and would be a main factor determining how their relationship would continue from this moment on an which direction it would take.

He took a deep breath without breaking eye contact and scrapped together all the famous Gryffindor braveness he had in heart and just answered the most honest way he could:

“Well, you remember the stupid article about you being undatable and how you told me you could never be with someone in the closet? I thought to myself I had to do something spectacular – Malfoy style - to show you I am not afraid of other people’s opinions so that you would go out with me and date me!”

He was afraid of the silence that followed his confession. Maybe he had misread the situation once more and this was not Draco showing him, he appreciated the big gesture. The other man leant even more towards the table, putting his elbows on it so that their hands almost touch. Something inside Harry thought this was a great imagery, the hands being a symbol for the distance between them, close but still a large step to go.

Then Draco surprised him by leaning back and smiling at in him a manner he had no words to describe it. There was a hint of flirting, a lot of softness, some curiosity and a lot of surprise in his voice when he teasingly, playfully asked: “So do you think we are dating?”

“Are we not?”

Silence.

Then all over sudden.

Draco brought out into laughter and Harry almost died.

Feared he had gotten it all wrong.

Felt his heart stop.

Could not breath.

Until Draco leant forward again and touched his hands softly. Both.

“Potter. Harry. We are having lunch. If you indeed intended on going on a date with me, you will have to ask first.”

“So, do you want to, like, haveadatetonight?”

He almost did not manage to find words at all, he was to preoccupied with the hands still touching his, fingers caressing the sensitive skin. Then Draco leant in closer, their heads only a few inches apart.

“Technically, I do not do dates. But this is not a no. If you really – really want to do this, do it properly. Plan something. Ask me out properly. With picking up and everything. Like a real date. Then I will say yes.”


	35. Chapter 35

In the end he thought he had managed the whole asking out thing rather fine. It had taken Harry the whole evening of that day and most of the other day to come up with a breath-taking plan that would surprise even Draco before he admitted to himself that maybe this was not his style at all. This might surprise very few of you but Harry has always been a rather traditional guy. Therefore, he went with what he would like best, meeting at a rather rustic steak house with already pre-ordered menus.

He decided Friday was as good a day as any other as they would have the next day off and Teddy was supposed to go to Mrs. Malfoy. And he even managed to get there just in time, neither too early nor too late.

With surprise he noticed Draco already sitting at a table all by himself without any menu, looking around with a rather critical expression on his face which luckily lit up the second he saw Harry.

As our favourite Gryffindor came closer to the table, he began to wonder how they would greet each other. A handshake was way too formal, but what else? A hug? He had never seen Draco hug anyone before. A kiss? On the cheek? Wasn’t that kind of pretentious? A kiss on the mouth? He could feel the heat in his cheeks by merely considering it. Harry was so lost in thoughts that when he finally arrived at the table all he was capable of doing was giving Draco a short nod before taking his seat.

This already was awkward! A thought he would have coming up quite a lot throughout the whole evening.

He looked across the table only to be met with Draco’s confused expression.

“Are you in a hurry or why are you not taking of your coat?”, the other man wanted to know and Harry suddenly noticed he was sitting in the restaurant with his coat and scarf still wrapped around him. He must have overlooked the cloakroom. Without displaying any grace he freed himself of the garments without getting up from his chair and carelessly hung (or better say crumpled) them behind himself on the backrest from where his scarf immediately decided to fall on the floor in between two tables. A bit embarrassed he bend down to reach for it and, of course, hit his head while trying to get back up.

He really was not an expert when it came to dating but even he knew, he had not made what one would consider a good impression so far therefore he attacked what he was most afraid of head over heels next. Smalltalk.

“It’s getting colder every day isn’t it?”

He once again was met with a look of pure surprise and a bit of confusion.

“Well, it slowly but certainly it becoming winter.”

“Haha, you are right. By the way how did you get here?”

Draco’s left eyebrow rose by at least one inch before he replied, obviously trying everything to make sense out of Harry’s behaviour before he replied.

“Well, I got here by apparating, if you wanted to know that specific thing. I also was surprised I came first and that you did not consider picking me up and maybe walking here together. Anything else you want to know about my rather boring arrival and way here?”

Had it not been for the slightly amused tone in the other man’s voice, Harry might have wondered if Draco was indeed complaining. What he actually wondered was if this whole situation would have been less tense if he actually had picked up Draco and they had walked here together. Well, at least the other man would not have to wait for his arrival all by himself. He definitely was not good at this dating thing at all.

After what felt like an eternity of uncomfortable silence Draco suggested to order and Harry had to explain he had already pre-ordered. Draco’s head tilted slightly to the left when he quietly explained: “I wished you had rather not done that.”

This was the moment Harry truly realized this date was not going that well at all.


	36. Chapter 36

His assumption became even more clear as the waiter arrived with their first dish – a combination of fried mussels and fine meats. Draco’s face immediately turned at least one shade paler (and yes this was possible) and he seemed to be rather disgusted by the sight and prospect of eating that. Maybe it was because he was not into sharing food? Some people had a problem with eating from the same platter.

“You can have your own, if you don’t feel like sharing”, Harry offered, hoping to have hit the nail on the head. His counterpart could not stop his own mouth from twitching towards the bottom left corner of his face, obviously trying to hide the disgust in his expression before shaking his head.

“Thank you for the kind offer but I will have to decline. Maybe you forgot about this or did not know but I indeed do not eat any dead animals at all. I am sorry for the inconvenience.”

That look between pity and actually feeling sorry for him told Harry that Draco really tried hard to make this work, too, but somehow this evening seemed to be cursed or something like that.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, both obviously uncertain how to proceed, the food in between them before Draco tried his best to give Harry an encouraging smile and explained to him, he should not let the dish get waisted.

“I mean, I can simply eat the main course, it is not that of a drama!”

Harry literarily felt himself sink into his chair and grown at least three inches smaller.

“I ordered steaks as a main.”

“Well, we can for sure change my order. I do not see the problem here.”

“I already paid for all of it and they have some sort of a no refunds, no changes policy.”

Again, they looked at each other without knowing what to do next. Harry sighted deeply before asking Draco in defeat: “Maybe we should leave and go somewhere else?”

Draco’s eyebrows once again twitched and Harry was almost sure the other man pondered whether it would be better to waste only half of the food and watch Harry eat (which he obviously would not be capable of. Harry knew, he was a rather messy eater, this was why he chose steaks in first place. They kind of were always a messy thing to eat. Both of them being occupied with how to cut their meat would have maybe led to Draco not noticing how clumsy Harry was. Now he would be watched.) or actually leaving.

Turning around and letting out the Gryffindor he was – always finding a solution – Harry quickly spotted a young man obviously waiting for his date, as his gaze was anxiously switching between the entrance of the restaurant and the menu, clearly terrified by the food prices. Harry waved at the waiter and calmly explained they had to leave early but it would be his pleasure if the prepaid menu would not go to waste.

When they left the restaurant, Draco quickly squeezed his upper right arm and gave him a genuine smile.

“That was very nice of you.”


	37. Chapter 37

They ended up going to a falafel-place around the corner after Harry had taken at least ten minutes to stand around uncertain what to do next and still hating himself for how bad he was at this. By now he was embarrassed to the bone and had no clue how he could still turn the date around into a success, **if **that was even still possible.

Luckily, the place had seats inside and even though the atmosphere could neither be described as romantic or really inviting, somehow, they managed to come at ease rather soon. And when Harry reached over the counter to receive the two falafel-sandwiches, they finally were in the middle of a conversation. One of the good ones. One of those where you never have to think about your next words but simply talk about whatever comes to your mind.

Harry went back to the table and handed the food to Draco. But instead of immediately taking the first bite, he continued where he had stopped.

“I am still impressed by your encyclopaedic knowledge of Sunday morning cartoons; I only know about this one from Teddy.”

Draco gave him a crooked smile, in between actually being proud of himself really knowing his cartoons and certainly having found something to mock Harry with.

“Yes, mother told me, cousin Theodore was really found of the show. He never misses a single episode and insists on recounting them to her.”

After having said that he took a hearty bite from his falafel and managed to not stain himself to Harry’s utter surprise. Well, not really surprise. Harry knew, he would look different when trying to eat his sandwich. Maybe because he was lacking this utter grace Draco always had, no matter what he was doing.

Harry shyly smiled at the other man across the table and wondered what a strange picture they were. Both were obviously dressed up to look their best. In his case this meant a button down, dark jeans and a rather bad attempt at taming his hair. In Draco’s case it meant pure elegance once again. He was wearing a black turtleneck shirt made from a material Harry could only describe as “expensive and unbelievable soft looking” paired with dark green formfitting pants and a gorgeous vest a colour darker than the pants but fully covered in the most delicate embroidery. His hair was combed back loosely as if he had carelessly just run his fingers through it before taking it into a ponytail but Harry was certain, the other man had put a huge amount of effort into his style. By now he knew how Draco’s hair looked like when it was actually in a lazy hairstyle (and for a moment he imagined himself, gripping it himself, running his hand through it while feverishly kissing Draco’s mouth, his other hand wandering over the delicate fabric of his shirt to find entrance to the naked skin below.)

Something inside Harry twisted in a way that made him feel really good as he realized, Draco had actually really tried to impress him with his looks. He wanted to look nice. For Harry.

“Yeah, imagine Teddy telling you how he told your mother what happened in the series. It’s ridiculous!”

Harry decided to finally take a bite from his meal after saying that. Unfortunately, this was the exact moment Draco decided to reach out and touch Harry’s arm which lead to Draco smudging Harry’s food on the table and Harry biting into the air instead.

They both looked at each other surprised. Then they burst out in laughter.

Draco’s hand was covered in sauce and he had a hard time not staining himself while cleaning it and at the same time excusing himself for the wasted food.

“Oh gosh, I am really sorry. See, this happens when I try to do emotional gestures. I ruin your meal.”

Harry could do nothing else but grin at him. It was adorable seeing Draco being embarrassed and for once not having everything under control. This, he decided, was a side of the other man he liked even more than the polished, perfect version.

“Well, our first attempt at dinner didn’t go well, also, so let’s call it even?”

Draco returned his smile and nodded.

“This whole date is not going very well, one could say. What would you say if we called it a day? I mean, I have to head back home soon anyway as mother is expecting me at the manor in the morning to prepare everything for my introduction to Theodore.”

Boom. Harry’s heart fell into his knees, leaving a terrible dark wound. This was not what he had expected to hear. He knew he did not well but…this sounded wrong.

Luckily Draco seemed able to read his mind and raised both eyebrows as if he was thinking hard.

“But I will be free in the evening. How does a comfortable evening at your place sound instead of a formal date which we both not seem to be very good at?”


	38. Chapter 38

# Chapter 10: He does not date

  
Grimaud Place had never looked like this before ever. Every inch was cleaned at least twice, every cushion freshly washed, every carpet magically scrubbed, every piece of cutlery polished to perfection and every dark corner enlightened. It looked like another house. A house out of a prospect, ready for people to bring life into it and use all the carefully placed props.

  
It definitely did look like Harry Potter was living here.

  
Not the clumsy one, who did not care about a few spiderwebs or old carpets or used furniture but just live with it because it was comfortable as it was. The one from the papers still idealizing him as the perfect hero of the Wizarding World.

  
Harry just had finished his masterpiece with a last clean-up glamour and carefully placed the vegetable sticks on the table in the living room when the doorbell rang. All over sudden his palms became sweaty and he could already feel his blood pressure rising. Hopefully, this night would be better. Hopefully he did not screw up again.

  
Harry had really tried his best, preparing 7 different vegetarian snacks to be sure there would be something Draco liked. There was grilled cheese, eggplants, a mushroom Bolognese, baked cauliflower, bruschetta, sweets peppers filled with vegetables and – just to be safe – vegetable sticks with three kinds of dip. Hermione came in handy with a lot of tips on vegetarian options. So many indeed, he could not settle for one and prepared them all.

  
Harry nestled at the collar of his shirt, nervously watching the clock tick. Draco should be here soon. He took a deep breath. He had double and triple checked everything, the food was fine, the house looked nice and so did he. Believe me when I tell you that our favourite Gryffindor felt a bit awkward, being this dressed up for a casual meeting at his place. Wearing fitting jeans, a brand new soft long sleeve shirt and his best pair of socks was dressed up, considering Harry normally hung around at home in his oldest pair of sweatpants. Which were way more comfortable but not stylish at all. He had discussed the option of shoes for a solid 15 minutes at least, deciding it would be ridiculous and then went on the search for the best socks. Have you ever lost your head because of the fact that you do not own serious stockings? No? Well, maybe that is because you have never tried to impress Draco Malfoy with everything you have and are.

  
Well at least that was Harry’s plan. Look great, show of your place, play it cool, make it up for yesterday. He really wanted to make a great impression and he had everything planned out. What to say, what to do, how to act.

  
And then the bell rang and his confidence was gone.

  
He felt the sweat in his palms when he touched the doorknob to let in a fantastic looking Draco. He was in an oversized white tanktopshirtthing, which showed off more of his chest tattoo than Harry was used to, as well as a black denim jacket and matching pants. Completing his outfit was a giant steaming box of pizza in his hands.

  
“Hey there, I thought I would simply bring the food today,” Draco greeted him with a playful half smile and shoved the box into Harry’s hands in order to untie his shoes and reveal perfectly fine and elegant black socks. While still starring at his guest Harry realized that his socks were no match to Draco and his inborn elegance as well as they should have talked about food prior to both of them simply going for what they thought would be right.

  
Draco studied his confused expression and was almost about to ask what was up when Harry remembered his manners and asked his guest for his jacket before thanking him for the pizza and mentioning he had also prepared a few tiny sides. Draco leant in and their shoulders touched ever so slightly, Harry was not sure if it was per accident or not.

“Let’s see then, what you have to top my fabulous pizza, self -ordered and picked up by hand!”  
Harry wordlessly pointed the way to the kitchen where his over-eagerness was on display, already knowing it were only mere seconds before he would make a fool of himself the second day in a row.


	39. Chapter 39

With a reassuring smile the pink-haired man went into the kitchen with an ease that surprised Harry. Draco moved as if he knew the place and had been there quite a few times, carefully avoiding the squeaking parts of the floor while heading directly towards the stove. It took Harry a while to remember why Draco seemed to know where everything was. Of course, he must have been here quite a few times in his childhood, back at a time before the house belong to Sirius. A time when the Black family still held family gatherings here.

Harry had a hard time imagining how Draco would have looked like as a child. Of course, his hair used to be blond back than as his mother’s and father’s but anything else? Had he already been so put together because his parents had taught him to? Did he run around the house annoying Kreacher while cooking or had he always been this mindful person who calculated their steps beforehand and managed to fit into any environment easily as if it was impossible for him to create disturbance?

Draco’s hand slightly brushed over the old wooden cabinets and he carefully turned around in the kitchen a few times, as if he was sucking in the details of it. Suddenly, Harry noticed he had not put away his collection of small trinkets from times with his friends, such as the photographs on the fridge. And yes, he had a fridge in his kitchen because Molly Weasley had told him so. Something about magically preserved food always tasting a bit odd (which was not the point. The point was when Molly told you how to do something in your kitchen, she definitely had good reasons and would not stop nagging you until you gave in. Therefore, he had bought a fridge even before he had really moved in). On the wall next to it several paintings gifted from Teddy were displayed as well as the scarf Ron had bought them at the last Quidditch World Tournament or the tickets of the Wyrd Witches show he and Luna went to last year. He was insecure of how Draco who obviously refused to store such sentiments at his apartment would react but all he got was a short nod before the other man moved on exploring his surroundings.

And for a few seconds this perfect image took over Harry’s mind: Draco getting up in the morning, all ruffled up, hair undone and still half asleep while he himself would already be waiting in the kitchen with two steaming hot cups of Draco’s favourite tea in the old, chipped mugs. Draco would sit not opposite but directly next to him at the small kitchen table, so close that pasts of their body would always touch. There would not be a lot of talking but small gestures like Draco holding up his hand, waiting for the milk. Draco’s leg hooking in with Harry’s. Draco putting the mugs into the sink when they were finished. Draco yawning carelessly and wrapping his stretched arms around Harry, pressing a kiss onto his lips. 

Harry realized how empty his kitchen had always been. For a long time, he was really glad to finally have a place on his own, a house where he could live by himself without anyone telling him off or sending him into his room. He had always liked the quiet. But now he started realizing there was something missing. Someone. Maybe it was because Draco acted so naturally, maybe it was because the image indeed was just perfectly right and Draco was meant to be in his kitchen, now inspecting what was cooking inside the oven.

“Bloody hell, are you expecting guest?”

This remark finally brought Harry back to reality and he realized Draco had discovered the tons of food he had prepared. Looking down at his feet and biting his lips he explained he just wanted to make sure there would be something Draco liked and that the other guy did not have to eat any of it.

He was rewarded with a playful shoulder-knock once again and looked up into dark grey eyes which obviously showed the other man was impressed as well as touched.

“You really want to make this work, do you?”


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry it took so long, but I have a hard time letting those two go. Suffer with me through this part and I promise the rest of the story will be all fluff and happiness

They ended up settling down in the living room in order to watch something on the telly. Harry of course had discussed a lot of options what to do as soon as he managed to lure Draco into his house but he decided watching a movie or something would be the safest choice. Sitting down to talk always sounded so dead serious and some of you might remember Harry as not being the best at keeping up an interesting conversation. Playing a game like he did with Teddy hadn’t sounded right either. So, there they were now, watching a movie on the telly, Draco casually lounging on the couch whereas Harry was sitting in his favourite reading chair.

He still asked himself how they ended up sitting so far apart. Maybe it was because Draco had lounged himself on the couch so carelessly as if he owned the place. Maybe it was because the other man took so much space Harry could not have helped it and would have had to touch the other one automatically when trying to fit on the couch as well. Or maybe it was this whole atmosphere of expectation revolving around them that made it so unbelievably hard to actually do anything.

Draco let out a deep sight somewhere in the middle of the movie. Merlin knows what it was about, Harry was way to busy asking himself how to improve the situation as to follow the shallow plot. What he definitely noticed was the moment Draco quietly drew out his phone and started texting. This was not going well at all and he had no clue what to do!

After the movie had ended, they looked at each other in confusion and did not really know how to continue. Harry felt as if the distance between them had grown into a giant void which he was not capable of overcoming. The other man seemed so far away as in another version of this reality; one Harry could not enter.

With a loud breath out Draco sat up and put away his phone, looking at Harry expectantly.

“Well, maybe I should leave.”

There suddenly was this ice cold, hard thing in Harry’s stomach, making him realize this was actually not only not going well but a complete disaster. He nodded silently, looking down to his feet, unsure what else to say.

Somehow this whole idea of him and Draco and all the (steamy) things they would do to another was pushed to the far back of his mind. He was really bad at dating; he had always known that but the realization that this time he actually cared hit him hard. He so much had wanted to impress the other man but his inexperience and well his whole Harryness somehow made him really screw up things.

“I have to use your bathroom quickly, I will be right back,” he heard Draco say.

Uncertain how to proceed in this mess of a date he stayed seated, waiting for Draco to return which took longer than he would have expected. Sadly, he realized, this would probably be the last chance they had at dating and that hurt. He really wanted to – well – get involved with beautiful, proud, cunning Draco but obviously he was simply not capable of handling this guy. Not because Draco was too much, maybe Harry was just not enough.

An artificial cough made him look up from his misery and stare right into the face of Draco. A very different Draco than moments before. His hair was as perfect as before but he was missing his socks and wearing – by Merlin, Godric and Salazar – he was wearing Harry’s hideous grey sweatpants.

Before Harry could react in any way, Draco took a deep breath and started something like an angry apology monologue:

“See, I really suck at this! The whole dating thing. I mean I normally do not even let it get that far. A guy starts liking me because of my looks and the way I behave outside but as soon as it gets more intimate, like getting to know each other intimate, not the plainly physical stuff, they automatically get bored. They realize I am not what they were expecting and then they loose interest. But then there was you and we were friends before and I thought it would maybe be different because you knew me but I still tried everything to impress you with offering drinks and bringing pizza and dressing up. I mean, who goes to someone else’s house wearing pants so tight you can barely sit in them? I am trying so hard to impress you that I completely forgot this is not about making you think I am hot and easy to go but interesting but actually showing who I am. But I somehow am still not sure you will like who I am. And then I forced myself to do everything that normally works to impress you like bringing food, acting comfortable around your kitchen, lounging on your couch to invite you to just well touch me and nothing works. And right now, I am really frustrated and I thought about just leaving as I normally do when dates do not work out. And then I looked around and noticed how hard you were trying, not only with the food but with how this place looks like and everything and I suddenly realized that maybe you are just trying to impress me as hard as I do and this might be the reason why we are stuck in this loop of forcefully trying to show of our best side when actually I want nothing more than to sit with you on that tiny couch, eating all the food and watching a series we both know by heart and sharing awkward side-glances and feel my skin prickle everytime we accidentally touch until the tension gets unbearable and I cannot help myself but toss down the pizza box and snog you senseless!”


	41. Chapter 41

Harry had stared at him in surprise the whole time the other man was talking. He had not expected anything like that. Draco always seemed to be so put together and self-confident and now he basically had admitted he was only faking that. A gigantic grin sneaked up onto Harry’s face when he started to realize that this was it. This was Draco actually admitting he had tried to impress Draco.

Slowly our favourite Gryffindor got up and walked past the other man towards the kitchen and without stopping grabbed onto the worn-out waistband of his own pants, loosely clinging onto Draco’s prominent hipbones. He tucked a bit and looked straight up into Draco’s very surprised eyes, their faces only a few inches apart. The other man’s face was indeed flushing be it because of the embarrassment of revealing how insecure he was or how close they suddenly were after over 90 minutes of sitting what felt kilometres apart.

“We should get the pizza then”, he simply said, feeling a certain rush of adrenaline as well as confidence streaming through his veins while he tilted his head a bit forward, almost touching Draco’s collarbone with his lips while still pulling the other man closer with his left hand securely wrapped around the waistband of the sweatpants, careful not to touch the skin below. “If you insist on the chronological order.”

He really did not try to be seductive or anything. For the first time he just simply did what his guts told him to and it seemed to be a whole success as suddenly there was a hand gripping his collar and soft but eager lips pressing against his in such a forceful manner their noses bumped into one another the first second before they figured out placement. Harry immediately leant into the kiss, tightening his grip around the waistband, now pulling so hard, their hips actually touched, his hand between them, feeling the precious softness of unknown skin below the fabric.

Afterwards he was not sure who started it but their tongues were touching, exploring fighting and he wondered if this was indeed the equivalent of their encounters at school but put onto a whole new level of physical excitement. His knees feel like he would collapse any second and the only thing capable of stabilizing him would be leaning in even more. This was everything. He could not decide what was the best part of that. The feeling of kissing someone, the knowledge that the other person wanted to touch him as much, the sturdiness of another man’s body pressed against his own or the unbelievable smell of his counterpart.

And then Draco made the most awesome sound Harry was sure he had ever heard. It was a tiny, low moan, one of those that makes your heart jumps out of your ribcage because you can hear all the desire and affection out of it. And the best part was that he could not only hear it but also feel in in his mouth, the soft vibration of Draco’s throat. They were so close.

And suddenly he realized how hard he was, his groin not pressing against Draco’s directly but still rubbing against the fabric of both pants.

Draco seemed to have noticed his sudden hesitance as he broke away from the kiss to look into Harry’s eyes. Something our favourite Gryffindor would have appreciated any other moment in his life but right now he could not stand the thought of doing anything else but kiss the gorgeous man in front of him. His lips reached forward to at least catch another peck before realizing how hard his heart was pounding and how desperately his lungs cried out for some air.

Without stepping a millimetre away, he loosened his grip and looked up into grey eyes and a very reddened face. Draco was painting as well, his hand still resting on Harry’s collar but there was no trace of insecurity left in his gaze. Instead the left side of his mouth twitched upwards into a playful half-smile while he bit down on his lower lip, mumbling to himself “I should listen to Pansy more often” while slowly tracing a line up and down Harry’s upper body with his fingers.

Harry lifted his eyebrows in utter surprise. This was clearly not a moment where he would have expected to hear Pansy Parkinson’s name mentioned. He looked at Draco puzzled who in return leant forward to let their foreheads touch. Draco had to lean down quite a bit which to Harry seemed to be uncomfortable but the former Slytherin seemed rather happy with the new position. The feeling of being so close to someone you so desperately want to touch was both new and intoxicating at once to Harry and he wondered if he might actually feel physical pain when their touch ended. Perhaps it would be better if it did not end at all. Nevertheless, he was curious about why Pansy Parkinson would get any credit for their current situation.

“Would you mind telling me why you are thinking about Pansy right now of all times?”

This question lead to Draco’s hand stop caressing Harry’s chest and instead reach into the pink hair, brushing it back while the still blushed face showed an expression of both guilt and embarrassment. The taller man shrugged his shoulders a bit, now really looking as if he had to confess something. Harry took a step back, raising one eyebrow.

“Wait, did you text Parkinson before when you were pretending to watch the movie?”

“I actually did, I am sorry. This whole thing between you and me somehow took place in my own head so much I started asking her for advice what to do. But actually, today was the first time I listened to it.”

“Wait, how long have you been talking about _this? _And what did she tell you to do? To dress up in my clothes and play the fucking coy guy?”

Part of Harry meant this as a joke, part of him actually discussed being angry at Draco for asking other people for advice. But on the other hand, he had run to his friends as well. Gosh, they both really sucked at this. Draco looked at him, still wearing this stupid, adorable, kissable half-smile Harry mentally noted down to never tell him how good it worked on him and started imitating Pansy Parkinson’s voice a tiny bit too well for his taste.

“Draco bloody Malfoy. You are at _his _place. He clearly is into you! What in Salazar’s name is your stupid problem? And stop complaining about your darn pants, those were your idea! This is even more ridiculous than your idea of always having to smell great and therefore taking a shower after every night out even though I know you are incapable of even standing after a night out! So, get your shit together and either leave the poor guy alone or finally be true to yourself. And don’t you dare texting me before you figured out what this whole thing with Potter is!”

Harry gave him a surprised look and Draco pulled out his phone, showing him the message, he had been reciting almost word by word. Except for the cuss words he had left out and believe me there were plenty of them. Especially in front of Harry’s name.

The latter looked up from the phone and turned around to the kitchen, but not without shouting back: “Well, she is not wrong about me obviously liking you and I can’t believe you were taking showers just to impress me, that is kind of sweet and disturbing. But now listen to Parkinson, put away that phone and help me with that pizza. We have a ton of food in here and a lot of stupid stuff to watch on the telly as an excuse to snog even more.”


	42. Chapter 42

This time around they ended up on the couch together, legs intertwined in the most impossible manner, their bodies touching what felt everywhere but still not enough for Harry’s personal taste. Draco was lying on top of him with half his weight resting on the other man’s body, balancing the other on his left hand, lazily watching the telly. They had turned on this one show Harry had noticed seemed to have constantly been running on repeat in the apartment. Not that he really paid attention. His hands were to busy brushing through Draco’s incredibly soft hair, fascinated by the fact that the pinkish colour fit the other man so well.

From time to time he glimpsed at the telly, but rather because he felt like he should instead of actually paying any interest until suddenly he noticed something. There was a very handsome Asian man with a rather huge amount of glitter around his eyes making a drink for a not an inch less handsome other guy. There was a lot on tension built up in the scene and clearly the characters were drawn to each other but this was not the thing that made him look more closely. It was the clothes the first man was wearing. He knew them.

“Hey aren’t those your button down and pants?”, he curiously asked Draco. “I mean not the one’s you are wearing right now but haven’t I seen you in a similar outfit? Immediately Draco was blushing, his gaze wandering between the telly and Harry. He sat up a bit and straightened his shirt, covering the lines of the chest tattoo up again – which was nearly as disappointing to Harry as having lost the feeling of another man’s – Draco’s – body on top of him.

“Well, someday someone had to find out. It is true. When settling for pink hair I was in desperate need for inspiration on how to live up my looks to my hair and this is when I found the incredible fabulous Magnus Bane, a queer character depicted as so comfortable in his skin and so elegant, I decided to copy a few of his defining looks and traits.”

“What do you mean by copying? What exactly?

Draco shrugged a bit.

“Mainly the confidence and the way he gives people space but always in a flirty manner. And offering drinks. And, well maybe admitting he has fallen for a handsome dark-haired guy who still has to come to terms with what he wants but you somehow cannot stop flirting and trying to impress them.”

It took Harry a moment to realize Draco meant him and he just looked confused. He was really insecure about what to say next, luckily Draco seemed to notice that and continued.

“But not the eyeliner thing. I tried that but it made my eyes pop out even more.”

Draco consciously brushed a single strand of his hair back and looked down. There it was. This tiny gesture, the moment of insecurity that made Harry’s heart melt. This was the one unspoken thing our favourite Gryffindor seemed to have waited for. He reached for Draco’s chin and carefully grabbed it, eliminating the distance between them again and forcing the other man to look into his eyes.

“I think eyeliner would suit you very well because your eyes are really beautiful. I have never noticed that they are not plainly grey but have a hint of gold in them.”

He was not entirely sure if he had just imagined the tiny purring noise Draco made just before leaning in and kissing him with all he had. This time it was different. This time there was no hesitance in the movement. It was pure desire and affection he felt when the other man’s body was pressing against his, at the same time pulling him over so he landed on top, their hips grinding against each other until the friction almost got to intense. They were all hands and lips and tongues and teeth, exploring, desiring, wanting to get closer, to get rid of everything in between them. While his fingers slowly moved from Draco’s cheek to his collarbones, he could feel eager hands pushing under his shirt, desperately trying to lift it up. Grinning against the lips that were still kissing his, he reached up his hands in order to help Draco getting rid of the piece of fabric.

As soon as it was gone, he gripped the other man’s neck and pulled him closer into a seated position, their erections rubbing against each other in the most delicious and at the same time unsatisfying manner possible while he playfully tugged at the remaining shirt. For a brief moment he was disappointed when the hungry fingers stopped grabbing the skin at his back until he realized Draco had only stopped touching him in order to get rid of his own shirt.

Finally, the delicious skin was revealed and for the first time he could see the whole beauty of the tattoo covering Draco’s whole chest, continuing until it melted into the sleeve covering his left arm. For a second, he froze in the motion, his unconsciousness screaming at him that he had not been prepared to be confronted with what he was expecting to see, the memory of a bathroom and blood appearing in front of his inner eye. But what he saw after letting go of those perfect lips he as soon as possible wanted to kiss again, was not what he had expected at all.


	43. Chapter 43

“I know it is kind of corny and melodramatic but after all of what happened when we were only children I felt the need to get a protective layer over my-“ he stopped for a moment, pointing at his chest whereabout his heart was, unable to say the word. “This one is the only magical tattoo I have. Normally I keep it under glamour in order not to freak people out but actually it is some sort of therapeutic thing. Pansy often told me I would swallow my feelings and never tell anyone about how I actually was, hiding any weakness from myself. And I did not want to be this coward person anymore therefore I got this one” – he pointed at the insect-like heart once again – “to confront myself with how I was.”

Automatically Harry’s hand reached for the glowing ink, slowly and carefully touching it with his fingerprints. He was surprised it was not hotness he felt but only tender skin and a heart beating so fast, he could almost see it through the skin.

“So, does it always look the same?” he asked in a low voice, cautiously watching Draco’s face, looking for any change of expression, any sign his question went too far. He was met by a coy and beautiful smile, which for the first time reached both sides of Draco’s lips, while the other man’s caught his own and slowly lead it to his lips, softly kissing the palm of Harry’s hand.

“Actually, it never went golden. I think that means for the first time I really want to be with someone.”

This confession left our poor Golden Boy completely speechless. He would have never expected such a confession.

“When you say for the first time, do you mean-?”

“Yes, Potter,” Draco broke into an embarrassed little laughter which Harry later on would only describe as utterly sweet, something Draco would always hate him say. Indeed, when they later told the story of how they got together Draco’s version would be him being way more confident, smart and cool and Harry would add a ton of sappy details on how bright the grey eyes were glowing, how electrifying their touches were and everyone around would roll their eyes, listening to the same story for probably the hundredth time while trying to remember really hard that those two who obviously were meant to be together from the beginning had not always been the nauseously sweet couple who would after years still send longing gazes over the room.

“I never had a boyfriend.”

“Neither did I”, Harry replied, only realizing how stupid he sounded after the words had already left his mouth. They both shared a hearty laughter, still pressing their now half naked bodies together. This was when the mood started changing again and Harry felt heat floating through his body once again. His lips automatically found Draco’s in less than a second, as if they were waiting for him and he felt this unstillable desire growing from his groin again. His hands were all over the now naked upper body, touching every inch, caressing, lightly scratching, being encouraged by the most delicious muffled little groans leaving Draco’s mouth and entering his as they could not break apart for any second.

When his curious fingers reached for the seam of Draco’s – his – pants, he surprisingly was stopped by long fingers. Breaking away from the kiss he looked at Draco in surprise.

“Harry, do you really want this? I mean I am the first guy you have ever been with.”

There was so much vulnerability in those words and at the same time longing in those eyes, that Harry for once in his life was absolutely certain he exactly knew what he wanted. Not half as graceful as he hoped he would be, he managed to detangle himself from Draco and rose up, holding out his hand for the other man.

“Of course, I want this, you bloody Slytherin fool and now get up to my bedroom” he demanded, even it is was completely obvious that he was really nervous. Instead of getting up, Draco reached for his upper arm and pulled him back down. Harry noticed that his counterpart was actually quite strong (and he really liked the image of being pressed against a wall by this beautiful man) and followed the movement. Draco pulled his ear in front of his own lips to whisper something.

“As much as I would love to devour each and every millimetre of your delicious body right now, starting from your neck down you chest, sucking your dick until you beg me to let you cum only to fuck you senseless and repeat all of that all over again for the next three days until you are incapable of even sitting up, let’s not rush things, ok?”

Harry’s head had turned redder than the entire Gryffindor common room ever was when listening to these words, painfully noticing the growing ache in his groin and realizing that for the future he definitely should insist on Draco talking dirty to him as this was really turning him on. However, he somehow managed to sit down opposite of Draco, watching him curiously.

“I have never been in a situation where as much as I wanted to get into someone’s pants, I also really want to get to know them. So, can I just maybe stay over night and we try to take things slowly as we kind of started dating just now and then see if you indeed want to have something more with me in any kind of relationship manner and not only because of the physical stuff? If that is ok with you?”

There was so much asking and carefulness in everything Draco said, that Harry managed to forget how badly he wanted that body and felt nothing more than an intense, warm and happy feeling in his entire body. Yes, he was definitely certain, he wanted this. As slow as they managed to go. This feeling taking over his body when looking at the other man reassured him that he really cared and he really wanted to be with Draco, as in every second they spent together he was falling more for this pretty, extravagant, confident, shy, sexy, innocent, beautiful, strong man.

He moved his face in front of Draco’s to press a sweet little kiss on the already swollen lips before whispering in the other man’s ear: “We can take it as slow as you want to, Draco, but there is one thing you have to accept. I do not only want to date you, Draco bloody Malfoy, I want nothing more than officially be your boyfriend.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments would be highly appreachiated :)


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